Life and Again
by ShinkonoKokoro
Summary: AU, Reincarnation-Merlin and Arthur meet again. And again. And again. Because life goes on.
1. Seduced

"I know you know who I am," the boy said, following him to his car. Mark refused to cringe, wondering how in sam hill he was going to turn the boy down gently. Being propositioned by a fourteen year old indeed... He snorted.

"I know you know who you are too, _Mer_lin."

He was proud that his step only barely hitched at the sound of his name. Not his current name, of course. Mark Ambruss was a middle grades science teacher, unmarried, well-off, and brilliant. Modern education was wonderful.

Arthur Doland was a fourteen year olf manipulative terror. From a regular class background, with lots of friends, lots of enemies, all the girls, and a head for maths and science, the odd propensity for old literature. And all the stubborn, charming qualities that made him _Arthur_.

He unlocked his car and slid in, the opposite door opening for the child to slip in.

"Get out!" Mark hissed. "You can't be seen in here! Do you know how much trouble you'll get me in!"

"You always know how to get out of trouble, Merlin."

"Get out," he ordered.

"Take me home with you. My parents beat me," he said showing a bruise on his bicep.

Mark rolled his eyes. "That's from Jake Thwort this morning, now get out.

"You were watching me?" Arthur replied, eyes gleaming.

"Of course not. It went round the school-news of your fight."

Arthur sniffed. "Hardly a fight. I beat him."

"He's two years your senior and twice your size."

"But doesn't have even a quarter of the training."

"Neither does that body," Mark returned. "Now get out of my vehicle before I force you out."

Arthur frowned, sullen, but obeyed.

Mark sighed and let his head drop against the steering wheel. If this was only the second week, it was going to be a looooong year.

* * *

He was an angel the rest of the week, answering questions sweetly and helping his classmates with problems in the lab. Mark, as he frequently had to remind himself, was relieved.

It shouldn't have surprised him when Arthur pounced on Friday. He was, after all a brilliant tactician.

"I need to stay with you for the weekend."

"What? No. Go home, Arthur."

The boy shrugged, all young muscle and golden hair. "Fine. If you see something in the news about a flat blown to pieces, that was probably me. I never could use the stove properly."

Merlin gaped.

He huffed a sigh and shook his head. "Honestly, Merlin. You're just as big of an idiot as ever."

"Wha-what's _wrong_ with you!"

"My parents are out of town this weekend and I promised them that'd I'd be staying with a friend. An older friend. A responsible friend. And you, Merlin, are nothing if not responsible." Mark dropped his papers. "When it comes to me."

"You... You can't stay with me! I'm your teacher!" He crouched and straightened once all the papers were secure in his arms again.

Arthur snorted. "Let's go." He brushed past Mark, his hand ghosting over his bum.

"Arthur!" Merlin gave a strangled shout. The boy was already climbing into his car. With his keys. He stalked over and threw his belongings into the boy's lap and then snatched the keys, starting his car. "You're probably lying to me, you rotten prat."

"At least you know nothing's changed," Arthur drawled, stretching out his young legs and linking his hands behind his head. "What's your place like?"

"You're about to find out, aren't you?"

"True. Anything kinky? I remember the last you liked a bit of that."

Merlin ground his teeth and focused on driving.

"Oh don't be like that, _Mer_lin. I know you want to do naughty things to me. I'm sure it's killing you that I'm underage."

"And so you're torturing me, Sire. Thanks _so _much for that." He slapped a hand over his mouth. "Didn't mean for _that _to come out."

"I'm still your king. Once and future and all that."

"Yes, well..." Merlin muttered, keeping his eyes quite purposely on the road.

"You want me."

"I don't want to be arrested."

"I wouldn't tattle," the boy promised, eyes wide as he reached over and placed a hand on Merlin's thigh. "There's just as much in it for me as for you."

He jumped. "Shit. Stop it."

"Or what?" Arthur teased, corners of his mouth curving upwards like a pleased cat. "You'll ravish me?"

"I just might have-NO. There will be none, I repeat _none_ of that."

"Have I told you how sexy you look with specs, Merlin? And in that suit? Those trousers make your bum look delicious."

"The way you're talking to me right now, Arthur, is all sorts of wrong," Mark chastised, though his voice was a little breathless.

"I can see every curve, and imagine where it meets those scrawny legs of yours that wrap perfectly around my waist..."

"Says the teenager who's not even grown into his voice yet."

"But you like me like this. Young and nubile."

Merlin snorted.

"Innocent-looking. Young."

He pulled into a parking spot and got out of the car. "Carry my things inside."

Arthur smiled and did as asked. "Wow. Nice place," he whistled appreciatively. "Very modern. That's unexpected."

Merlin hung his jacket on the coat rack, setting his brief case down next to it. "Tea?"

"None for me thanks," Arthur replied, looking around, hands shoved into his pockets. After a moment, he took his jacket and blazer off, hanging them on the same coat rack and toeing off his shoes. "Though if you have any biscuits, I'll take those."

"Sweet things?"

"Things change," Arthur shrugged, propping himself up in one of Mark's kitchenette chairs.

"Apparently." He made himself a cup of tea and moved past Arthur to the couch, flicking on the telly.

"If you're going to ignore me the whole weekend, I'll walk around naked."

"And what do I have to look at? A child's prick."

"You know I still turn you on, _Mer_lin," Arthur turned in his chair, getting up to follow Merlin to the couch. "I always will."

He avoided Arthur's insense gave, sipping his tea calmly. The news, after all, was fascinating.

"You're quite sexy, Merlin. All sprawled across the couch like a feast for me to take my perusal of."

"Arthur, you're ridiculous. Not for another two years."

"I won't be able to wait for that." He grabbed Merlin's hand and placed it on his crotch. "See?"

"God! Arthur!" He yanked his hand back and looked appropriately horrified.

"You're getting hard."

"It's hard to _not _react," Merlin retorted hotly. "God. I'll be arrested!"

"I won't let that happen. It "never happened," right?" Arthur smirked.

"God you're annoying for a child."

"But I'm also gorgeous. And you have a weakness for me."

"Arthur. You're a twit. A prat. And a dollophead."

"Like I said. Nothing's changed."

"Except your stature." This time it was Merlin's turn to smirk as the boy flushed.

"It's not my fault you're older than me this time around..."

"No. It just means I have the bigger prick."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "This game then? Maybe I'll walk around naked until you use it then. Or have you lost your balls this time?"

"God, you're _really_ obnoxious," Merlin drawled, setting down his tea.

That must have been the moment Arthur was waiting for because he threw himself into Merlin's lap. "And you're insufferable. And slow. And dimwitted."

"Sorry, _Sire_, but I'm actually quite brilliant, graduated from Uni, and _teaching_ you." He gave Arthur's shoulder a shove, refusing to be impressed. Or turned on. "So that goes for something."

"Yeah," Arthur smirked slowly. "You completely fail at social cues." And his hand snuck between them, rubbing over Merlin's cock.

Merlin hissed, but then Arthur kissed him. Merlin allowed it for a moment. Just a moment. The he pushed Arthur back. "You are _too_ young, and I feel horribly uncomfortable—"

"Because you've got a hard on."

"—with _this_ because you're just a boy!"

"_Mer_lin. I'm never 'just a boy.' If we wait two years for me to be legal, you won't be able to manhandle me around." Arthur grinned. "And I _know_ how much you like that."

"Wrong," Merlin shorted, pushing him off his lap. "_You're_ the one who likes that."

Arthur tilted his head consideringly. "True. Perhaps. But still. You can't help your fetishes for me."

"Object. Of. Temptation. Get thee gone." Merlin rose and strode towards the kitchen. "God, I'll be all old when you're just getting into politics."

"Who says I'm going into politics."

"Arthur, you _always_ want to save the world. Through politics."

"You'll be a sexy older man, Merlin." Arthur shrugged, stretching out on the couch as if it were his throne. "Besides. You can always magic yourself younger, can't you? You're immortal, after all."

Merlin snorted. "It doesn't quite work that way. Besides..." He dropped his gaze. "It hasn't...come back."

At this, Arthur leaned forward. "Come back? What do you mean?"

"I mean I say the spells and they don't work! I can't _do_ anything!" He snapped.

"This is new."

"Getting rather old, in fact."

"Relax, Merlin. It will come. It always does."

"No, I always _have_ it."

Arthur waved a hand. "Enough. This was about sex, not poor baby Merlin."

The other man's eyes glinted. "Poor baby Merlin? Really?"

"Yes, who's probably been celibate to appease my jealousy and never been laid."

"You think so?"

"I know so," Arthur blathered on, rather oblivious of the dark smile that was beginning to spread across Merlin's face. "You wouldn't do that to me."

"Really? Because I quite _specifically_ remembering _you_ doing that to _me_ that one time."

"Whoops. You remember that?"

"You're not the only one who remembers, _Sire_." Merlin had inched closer to the couch slowly.

"I know that, _Mer_lin. I'm not daft."

"I think you are, Arthur. I _really_ think you are," he said huskily as he bent over the sofa and pinned Arthur's arms stretched out across the back of it. "And just remember... You goaded me into this."

Arthur smirked, meeting Merlin's eyes. "I told you I wanted it."

"Oh, you'll get everything you wanted," Merlin promised darkly.

Arthur smirked, though he could see the corner slipping, a little unsure.

"Think you can keep up?"

"Yes," Arthur breathed, eyes finally going wide as Merlin pinned him down heavily with his own body weight, taking control of his mouth. Arthur groaned immediately, straining against Merlin's arms.

"We'll just see..." Merlin murmured against Arthur's neck darkly.

* * *

Arthur groaned on Merlin's bed later. "God, you must have lived a very sexually repressed life."

Adjusting his specs on his nose as he read his book, Merlin merely arched an eyebrow. "It's your fault for being so young, _Sire_."

"I'm going to be sore for a week."

"And I'm sated for two years." He grinned.

"What? Are you _kidding_ me? Merlin!"

He continued reading.

"God, don't make me wait _that_ long! I'll torture you. I'll... I'll do whatever it takes! I'll throw you down."

"Hush. Don't you think it's time for your nap? The weekend's not over."

Arthur's eyes lit up as a grin took it's time conquering his lips. "_That's_ good news."


	2. These Are not the Droids U'r Looking For

It was Arthur's birthday. The whole _country_ knew it was Arthur's birthday. Being one of the most famous actors since childhood, people were aware that it was Arthur's birthday.

That being, it was impossible for anyone who was _not_ invited to get into the mansion.

Merlin knew he was invited. Not in so many words, of course as he hadn't met Arthur yet this lifetime, but he knew that Arthur would want him to be there. So he'd driven in and slouched towards the gates of the grounds, murmuring himself through the surrounding fence and making his way towards the front door.

"And your name, sir?"

Anyone who saw him would see him in a well-tailored tux and a red skinny tie. Of course, being Mervin Prush (destiny really cursed him on that one), he couldn't afford to own these things, so the glamour was necessary.

"Arthur expressly invited me and is waiting to see me," he said with a convincing wave of his hand. "You'll let me in."

The guards looked a bit dazzled due to the magic and let him pass.

Merlin grinned.

Arthur wasn't that hard to find. He was, of course, the centre of attention, shining and golden, exactly how he'd always known him.

"Arthur! Arthur!" he whispered in his ear when he'd gotten close. "Arthur, I used a jedi mind trick to get in!"

Arthur laughed. "Merlin, you're—Merlin!" He spun, seeing him for the first time. "Merlin!"

"Mervin, actually."

"God, never calling you that..." Arthur chuckled, gripping his shoulder. "What are you _wearing_, Merlin."

The crowd around Arthur shifted and looked on inquisitively. They'd never heard of this Merlin/Mervin person, though he was striking looking. Merlin bent close. "To everyone else, a tux and red skinny tie. And snappy trainers."

"And of course to _me_, a t-shirt, ratty jeans, and chucks?"

Merlin grinned. "Glamour."

"Meet my friends?"

"Of course!"

"I'm glad you're here, Merlin."

"I said I'd always find you."

"And if not, I'll have to be responsible for finding you..."

Merlin elbowed him, but he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face as he mingled with England's young and famous.


	3. Early for Death

He felt Arthur's light go out as he, ironically lay on his bed, wanking off to memories of his touch. Apparently they would not meet in this life.  
Merlin can't even pretend that the thought isn't sobering. Especially since he's still just in year nine. So he floats through school blankly, the material easy enough, what with having lived it and all.  
But his mother worries and dad brushes it away, uninvolved prick that he is. He refuses his mates' offer to see a film in favour of allowing the absence of Arthur in the world permeate him like dampness on a cold day.  
Three o'clock rolls around and he gets a very strong sense to GO, so he strolls passed his mum with a muttered "bye" and turns towards town.  
By the time the car hit him and he's done flipping through the air, the last thought that fills his mind is, "Apparently one cannot exist long without the other..."


	4. I Belong to You

Arthur tugged at his collar, glad for the chance to sit this dance out. He'd begged off dances with two ladies so far, feigning a weak constitution. He grimaced. At least they believed him. His father wouldn't be pleased. He had been trying to marry Arthur for three seasons. But through all the simpering and frippery and calling cards, Arthur waited. He had to. Merlin was bound to show up eventually. He couldn't bear if it this was one of those rotations where they never met. He needed him, and besides...women weren't _exactly_ his forte.

And yet, 1554, and Arthur was twenty-two. He sighed and sipped a cocktail, looking around at all of the dresses and women and finely-frocked men. He could... Arthur shook his head. No he couldn't. His eyes followed the walls, almost brushing over the woman in the corner, staring at him fiercely. He almost flinched. Keeping her eyes on his, she lifted her fan. Then dropped it. _I belong to you_.

He quickly scanned his area, discovering that he was the only one she could be looking at. Bending to pick it up, she smiled an indecent smile, tapping the floor as she stood again. _I'm impatient_. He could only stare. She tilted her head, blue eyes bright beneath long black waves piled elegantly on her head. Her red dress complimented her golden collar and her fan hit her palm. _Love me_.

He frowned and then quickly made his way around the edge of the room to the lady. "Milady..." He bowed and kissed the back of her knuckles.

And she giggled. "Hullo."

"And to what do I owe the honour of your affections."

"Years and years of waiting," she replied cryptically, her fan hiding half of her face.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I've loved you always."

"Milady," Arthur smiled indulgently. "While I am flattered, surely you do not know me."

"I know everything."

Arthur laughed. "And you are very sure of yourself."

"One tends to have confidence when one is sure of the outcome."

"And what outcome would that be?"

She seemed to be thinking and then let her fan slip to show him a mischievous smile that made his heart ache for Merlin. "You taking me to the library or some other secluded room and coming into me while you try to keep quiet."

He stared.

She took his hand and led him out of the ballroom while his brain wasn't working. "Arthur?" She tilted her head. "Arthur, are you alright?"

He wasn't. "No, you know, I'm... I'm sorry. I cannot, milady, your honour—"

"Arthur." The woman rolled her eyes at him. Then froze. "Oh god. Arthur, you don't... My name. What's my name?"

"I..don't know."

Her face fell tragically, cheeks flushed. "Dear. I'm _so_ sorry. This was... I'm so sorry. Really. I didn't know you didn't..." She bit her lip.  
Arthur stiffened. "Didn't what?"

"Didn't remember," she whispered miserably.

"Didn't remember... God, I am so confused. I've never met you before."

"You have. But that was a long long time ago."

He froze again, not daring to let the threatening smile cover his lips. "Wait... Wait, _Merlin_!"

The woman's smile struck him down.

Arthur laughed. "Merlin, you idiot. I didn't recognise you because you were a _girl_."

Merlin laughed too. "I thought... I thought you didn't remember this time around! Well, first I thought you were just playing, but..."

"This is certainly different. God, I'm an idiot. How could I not have realised! You're wearing my colours." He tugged at her skirts. "And your eyes are always the same." He trailed a finger along her cheek. "And your hair is the same colour, though much longer..." He lifted a lock and pressed his lips to it, never breaking eye contact. "Your fan speak threw me."

Merlin laughed a little breathlessly. "Yes... I've spent some time getting used to this body. Do you think you could?"

"Merlin, I could finally marry you!" He was rewarded with a brilliant smile.

"It's true!"

"Father will be _so_ pleased," he drawled.

"Uther?"

"Oh no. Just a man. But all the same, he's been trying to wed me for the past three seasons."

"And isn't that familiar..."

"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin," Arthur breathed, leaning his forehead against hers. "I've been waiting for you."

"And I you. Now, are you going to do something about my earlier proposal, or are you just going to stand there?" Merlin pressed close, breathing against his jaw.

"I've not...with a woman in...centuries."

Merlin laughed. "Does it count if I was with myself?"

"God, Merlin..." He groaned, feeling his cock twitch. Maybe women weren't so bad. "We could have children..."

"Kill me if they turn out to be Morgana and Will."

"Only if you kill me too."

"But not before sex. Lots of sex. Dear goodness, women are so repressed."

Arthur grinned, his hands following her contours. "This is beyond weird, Merlin, but so help me, I want you squirming beneath me and crying my name."

"Yours," Merlin gasped. "Just do as you like! And quickly."

Arthur laughed and scooped her up, striding to one of the empty rooms. "Merlin, I'm going to ravish you."

"I'll hold you to that," she said, hand snaking down to grab his bum, other cupping his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you always."


	5. Between the Call of Bullets

Then there are times when _this_ happens, Merlin bemoans, staring down into the baby crib.

"This is quite awful."

"I know."

"I wonder if he'll remember," Arthur whispers, staring down at his father. Who also happened to be his baby brother.

"God, it's a wonder we aren't more messed in the head."

"The family tree would be _quite_ entertaining."

"If it could be figured out at all..."

"Well. Nothing to be done, Merlin. Let's go play some footie."

"Arthur, you know I hate sports."

"Exactly!" He grins and grabs Merlin's 10-year-old hand and drags him into the sunshine for aerobic exercise. They play all afternoon, Merlin cheating with magic until it's time for him to go home for supper. They speak to each other later, leaning out the windows, from across the space between their houses that evening when they're supposed to be in bed.

* * *

By the time they're seventeen, it's time for war. And since they've done everything together since birth practically, there's no way that Merlin will let Arthur go without him. It's still his job to protect him of course. Arthur just tsks and shakes his head with a fond smile as they talk about it. Merlin's insistent that it's _one of those times_, those important things that he somehow knows. They have to be involved. Arthur's a leader. Always. So he needs to take part. And Merlin? Merlin grins as his eyes flash gold briefly. Merlin is always Arthur's right hand man.

1915: They're in the trenches. Merlin writes home every week, a comfort to his parents who aren't Balinor and Hunith. Arthur writes at Merlin's insistence. "Bad son," he teases. So Arthur shoves him. Most of the time it's easy going. There's nothing frightening. War is all about delusions. There's no glory to it when the fighting comes. It's dirty and honourless. Arthur hates it.

Merlin hates it because he has to be ten times as diligent about Arthur's safety. He's just relaxing from the last fire fight when Arthur decided to be heroic, and Merlin had to make sure none of the bullets actually hit him. It's stressful. And Arthur. Arthur just laughs it off, confident in Merlin's ability to protect him.

It would be touching if it didn't have Merlin's heart in his throat the whole time.

* * *

Merlin bangs his head against the wall of the trench.

"Merlin."

Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Merlin."

Bang. Bang.

"_Mer_lin!"

"Yes—" Bang. "—Arthur?" Bang.

"Any more of that and I'll be forced to sing along to your beat."

Merlin stops immediately.

"Better," Arthur drawls. "Honestly. What will that accomplish."

"Entertainment," he growls.

Robert leans forward on Arthur's other side. "Come on, mate. It's not that bad."

"It's _that_ bad."

Arthur laughs. "Merlin. This is all part of war."

"I _know_," he replies significantly. "And I _hate_ it."

"Been fighting before?" Robert asks.

"Yes," they reply in unison.

"Really? You're both rather...young."

"First tour and all," Arthur shrugs. "But we've seen fighting."

Robert opens his mouth to reply, but then there's fighting. Again. Arthur is ready immediately, returning fire. And Merlin has to be there to protect him from bullets. It doesn't stop his yelp when shrapnel clips his ear.

Arthur drags him down immediately, inspecting. "Ah, the ears. Merlin, always the ears."

He glares at Arthur, but the fighting goes on.

Later that night, Merlin goes for a piss, startled when he's cornered by Arthur.

"Took you long enough..."

"I'm taking a _piss_ Arthur. Is something wrong?"

Arthur shakes his head, blonde hair shining in the moonlight. "No. You're..fine?" He waves a hand by his ears and Merlin shakes his head.

"I'm fine."

"Good. Then you won't mind a shag here in the shadows?"

Merlin coughs. "Arthur! Is this really—"

"It really is." He looks serious. "Merlin, this is war. Who knows if we'll get another chance."

Merlin doesn't know what to say.

"Besides. You gave me a bit of a fright... The whole bullet thing."

He chuckles nervously and then reaches out to Arthur.

Arthur promptly pushes him into the shadows where no one will see them and captures his lips. The sex was quick. Though not unsatisfying. Arthur's hands around him, his hands around Arthur, gasping into his mouth, pressing close through their uniforms. It ends too quickly and leaves Merlin feeling boneless.

"I hate hiding," he says finally.

"Me too."

Lifting his hands to cup Arthur's face, Merlin gives him a smile. "One day."

"Oh Merlin. It's always one day," Arthur says, but kisses him. "Let's go."

Merlin waves a hand and they're clean, shuffling behind Arthur back towards the rest of the men.

* * *

This time is different. The bullets are fierce and Merlin is certain his eyes are golden for the entire time they fly. At least, until he sees sky and feels something clip his shoulder, carrying him backwards—falling.

Everything slows. He's not certain if it's him. It might just be the pain exploding in his brain. Or Arthur's terrified face. Calling his name. Leaping down to the bottom of the trenches.

It's his right shoulder, Merlin diagnoses. Not near his heart then. But still deadly. Arthur is shouting again. Gripping the side of his head. Telling him to 'pay attention, idiot!' and 'don't you dare sleep, Merlin, or else I'll put you in the stocks!'

He smiles. Arthur is so silly. The stocks have been long abolished.

"I don't care you idiot!"

He must have said it aloud then.

"Heal yourself!"

Arthur seems very far away, but he manages to lift a hand to his face. "I'm going... to pass out now..."

* * *

He finds himself not dead and very much in pain later. And the focus of Arthur's intense stare. "Hello," he croaks.

"Thank god you're alive..." Arthur looks around and then leans closer, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced as his vision solidifies. "I think you partially healed yourself. It doesn't look as bad as it did previously."

"Honourable discharge?" Merlin says hopefully.

"No such luck, soldier." Arthur smiles though. "You're stuck with me for the rest of the tour. I had to beg off the chaplain earlier." His smile is forced now, fear in his eyes. "You looked rather wretched. You can't just protect _me_, Merlin. You have to protect yourself too."

"You're more important."

"Not to _me_, idiot," Arthur hisses, gripping his hand too tightly.

"Okay, okay. No dying until we're old and wrinkly," Merlin protests, tugging at his hand. "I'll be fine. Don't go without me."

Arthur's smile is soft and he smooths Merlin's hair. "I can't get away from you."

"Yeah... There is that. Stuck with me forever."

"I don't mind."

"Me either."


	6. Garden Talk

Sighing, Arthur supposed it was only fair. Adjusting his elaborately decorated bodice, he once again experienced the out-of-body sensation that he was a boy.

"Anne! Come sit with us!" One of the ladies called, parasol twirling above her head.

He smiled and headed towards the group of ladies with their small dogs in the garden. The sun was bright, and it really was a lovely day. Fanning himself, he took his seat on one of the benches.

"You must tell us of London, Anne!" She, Claire, placed a hand on his knee and he flushed.

"Of course. What do you wish to know?"

She tittered and sighed. "Theatre! Is it as grand as they say? I know French theatre is supposed to be the best, but I really just love English theatre."

"I've not...gone to many plays."

Claire looked disappointed. "Oh."

"But I hear it's uproariously funny and terribly amusing."

Her disappointment vanished and the other girls were leaning in. "And that? Is that London-made?" She gestured to Arthur's dress, resplendent red and gold, of course, rubies decorating Arthur's décolletage.

"Yes. It is," he smiled politely. "Specifically designed."

"Oh really? By who?"

"By me, of course," he couldn't help bragging a little. They were trying to tear him down, of course.

"It's certainly lovely." One of them touched the bejewelled lace at the end of his sleeve.

"Thank you. So who do I need to know? I've only just arrived from London, you know."

The girls all erupted into chatter at once.

"How old are you, Anne?" One asked.

"Sixteen."

"Oh, baby! You darling..." they cooed.

Arthur smiled and tried very very hard to not roll his eyes. "Yes."

"Well, be ware Lord Pierre. He's quite...handsy, if you know what I mean," Claire said.

"And Lord Leon is quite nice, but he already has a sweetheart. Chloe tried to tease him, but he turned terribly red and refused to speak to her again!"

"Lord Henry is _still_ searching for a wife."

"Don't get near him, Anne. He's cruel." He thought she was Helene.

"Lord Martin—"

"Ooh, Lord Martin..." One of the girls fanned herself quickly.

"Lord Martin is gorgeous. He could almost be a girl."

"He must fancy men."

"Claire!"

"You know it to be true. He is too much of a dandy to fancy women."

Helene pouted. "I know it."

"But he's _so_ pretty..." Victoire swooned.

Claire hit her lightly with her fan. "He won't pay you any attention. He never pays _any_ one attention. It's a wonder he has friends. He keeps to himself most days. I've seen him smile though. It is divine."

Arthur laughed. "Who else then. I'd like to at least be aware before tonight's ball."

"Lord Thierry is a terrible tease, but he's quite lovely."

They listed names on and on, one even Arthur had heard of in Louis' court back in London. At least he had ingratiated himself with these girls. And they never noticed his longing looks towards the men with their horses and rapiers.

* * *

The ball, Arthur decided, was a horrid institution, despite the fact that he had been attending them for years and years on end. He smiled at the memory of the time he met Merlin at a ball. Maybe this would be their reverse situation. He paused, catching his reflection in a mirror. His long golden hair was intricately woven and perfect—nothing less than Arthur expected. The dress flattered him—her curves, and Arthur couldn't help but be a little bit proud of his bosom. And his shapely waist.

Lord Pierre had already tried to get 'handsy,' but Arthur gripped his wrist tightly in his smaller, very feminine hand and smiled tightly. "Should you ever try to touch me inappropriately again, I shall find myself a butter knife and give careful attention to your manly bits. With the sharp end."

He had slunk off and Arthur didn't see him for the rest of the evening. He wasn't cut out to be a girl.

Half-way through, he slumped against the wall, his feet aching, and head dizzy from spinning.

"Anne! Anne!" Claire was at his side immediately. "He's been staring at you all evening!"

"Who?" He replied tiredly.

"Lord Martin! He's never shown this type of interest in a woman before."

Helene, Chloe, and Jeane were nodding emphatically.

"Where? Where is he?" He looked across the room, willing to tell him a piece of his mind.

"He... Oh he's gone. He was right there," Helene said, disappointed.

Arthur shrugged. "Very well. If he's interested, he shall approach." Where was Merlin when he needed him.

The girls hovered for a bit until Arthur said something too snippy and then they left.

"You make a lovely wall-flower, milady," a voice said in his ear. "Anne was it?"

"Ar—Anne. Yes. Lady Anne Scott," Arthur replied, jumping. "And you?" He turned and was struck rather dumb by the gorgeous man in front of him.

"Lord Martin. Or as you might rather call me, Merlin."

"Merlin!" Arthur's smile was wide and real. "Thank goodness! My gods, this is the clothing you were meant to wear for ever. You're... You look amazing."

Merlin smiled and cupped his cheek. "And you, Arthur. You make a lovely woman."

"Girl," Arthur shot back, flushing furiously. "I'm only sixteen. How old are you?"

"I'm five and twenty." He grinned at her, holding one of her hands gently, rubbing the inside of her wrist. "You look amazing. I should have known you'd always wear red and gold. I thought it was you, but I had to be sure. When those girls came over to you—"

"You knew?"

"I knew."

"They all think you a homosexual."

Merlin laughed, easy. "Of course. I've never given attention to a woman before. I was waiting for you."

"You didn't know I would be a woman."

"I didn't. But I'm glad you are."

Arthur felt her heart flutter, cheeks flushing, and heat pooling deep in her body. There was no mistaking her a woman. "I want you."

Merlin laughed again and bent a kiss to her forehead. "I want you too. You're beautiful. But I suppose I must court you."

"I live in London."

"Well. I can afford a place in London. Unless you'd care to stay in France."

"You're rich?"

"Terribly."

"How fabulous. I as well. We could live wherever."

"Do you not care to be the centre of attention?"

Arthur rolled her eyes. "Don't be daft, Merlin. I don't _always_ want to be the centre of attention."

He grinned. "That's not what your dress says."

Flushing again, Arthur gave him a smack on the arm. "Oh my. Fit, are you, Merlin?"

"Very. Good marksman too." His eyes twinkled.

"Are you cheating again?"

"Perhaps. Your ladies in waiting are coming back. I should make myself scarce. Would you like something to drink?"

"Lovely," Arthur said dreamily.

"Oh god, Anne! You're horrible!"

"What? Why?"

"You've taken the best for yourself!" Chloe looked dejected and Helene positively had tears in her eyes.

"He took an interest in me; it was hardly my fault."

"It's just because you're too beautiful, Anne," Claire said flatly.

Arthur smiled. "You remind me of someone I knew."

Claire blinked. "Oh?"

"In a good way. A good bad way."

Claire raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry. It's a good thing. Most days," Arthur laughed.

"Ladies," Merlin said with a smile that charmed them all. Arthur included. "Hello."

"Lord Martin! A pleasure." There was a great deal of fluttered eyelashes, coy looks, heaved bosoms, and finally disappointed smiles as they went on their way, the ball coming to a close.

"Arthur, Arthur..." Merlin whispered as he tucked her into a shadowed alcove. "Is it too soon?"

"Considering I've literally been waiting my entire life for you, _no_, Merlin."

Merlin slid his hands along her waist, nibbling an ear and then kissing along her jaw. "You're so lovely..."

Arthur let him, resting her hands on his shoulders. "I want you."

Merlin pulled back with a wry glare. "I'm trying to compliment you and all you can do is complain for how randy you are?"

"_Mer_lin! Girl parts are different. It's not so easy to...find release!" Arthur practically whined.

"God, not here. Not here, Arthur. When's your father expecting you? Can you come to mine?"

Arthur dropped her head back against the wall, Merlin nibbling her throat. "I don't... I don't—fine. Yes. Now. Let's go. Magic?"

Merlin's gold eyes sear into her as they're suddenly no longer _here_, but _there_.

"You really are rich, aren't you?" Arthur gaped, looking around at what was apparently Merlin's bed chamber.

"I told you." Merlin crowded her, forcing her back towards his bed, pulling at lacings and hooks, pushing the dress down before it tangled in her legs and she fell backwards onto the bed.

"Merlin, hurry..." Arthur pawed at his clothing, reaching to undo the cravat, collar, vest, and finery.

"Enough..." He whispered, eyes flashing gold. Their clothing slithered off, falling to the floor and, blessedly, skin touched skin. "Arthur..." He worshipped her skin for a while, stroking a hip, caressing a breast, before capturing her mouth with his to slide into her.

Arthur keened. "Tell me you haven't...practised..." She remembered to breathe, arching up to meet him, burying her fingers in his hair for purchase.

"Only you, Arthur, only you," Merlin panted.

She dropped her head back, mouth forming a soundless 'o' as her body felt on fire. "God, was it...was it this good when I...when we were flipped?"

"You learned."

Arthur grabbed Merlin's ears, all injustice dying at the teasing grin. "You'll pay. Later."

Merlin slipped a hand between them where their bodies met, teasing Arthur with light touches until she writhed, thrusting irregularly and then finally collapsing back with a long wail of release. Merlin grunted with two more thrusts and then followed, slumping on top of her.

"Oh... I hope... it's like that every time..."

Merlin nuzzled her neck. "Of course it will be."

Arthur gave a breathless laugh, smacking the back of Merlin's head resting against her breast.

"I think I can get used to these on you..." he whispered, cupping the aforementioned body part.

Arthur flushed. "Well, they're bigger than yours were."

Laughing, Merlin sat. "Always a competition... Honestly, Arthur. If we're going to do that, then my dick was always bigger than yours."

"Yeah. I think I like it that way," she retorted, pulling him down for a kiss.

* * *

Two years and a wedding later, Arthur pounded down the stairs to Merlin's office. "_MERLIN_! What the _hell_ did you do to me!"

Looking up, half-moon glasses a little crooked on his nose, Merlin blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm. _Pregnant_."

Looking at his wife, Merlin couldn't help the little quirk of his lips in the upward direction. He tried, bless him, he really tried. But Arthur looked stunning in the feminine trousers, tousled hair, and flushed cheeks.

"You—you're _laughing_ at me?"

"O-of course not, Arthur!" He stood quickly and moved around the desk to wrap his arms around his wife. "You know it's going to be brilliant, right?"

"Me _pregnant_?"

"Absolutely." This time Merlin really couldn't help his grin as he pressed a kiss to Arthur's temple. "I love you so much. I love that you're my wife. I love that we get to have kids again."

"I'm going to be a terrible mother," Arthur wailed. "You thought I was worried about _you_ being pregnant what with...with my mother... Oh God, _Mer_lin! What if—"

"Shush shush shush!" Merlin stepped back, running his hands up and down Arthur's arms. "Relax. Nothing's going to happen to you."

"You can't promise that!"

To his horror, Arthur's eyes watered up. "Shit, Arthur! Arthur, don't cry. Stop crying. _Ar_thur! I promise you, I won't let anything happen to you. I'll be with you the whole time."

"Unless I kick you out," Arthur corrected miserably.

"Until you kick me out. But you know that never keeps me away for long. I'll make sure nothing will go wrong. I've still got my magic. You'll be fine. I promise."

Arthur took a deep breath. "Of course. And now I'm going to go riding."

Merlin groaned. "That's...not what I had in mind."

His wife grinned at him. "That's why I'm going to be as contrary as possible!" And then skipped out.

* * *

Arthur was resting. Merlin held the babe in his arms, unable to stifle the happiness welling inside him. Not like he wanted to even if he could. He cooed at the small bundle, rocking her as he moved across the room to sit next to Arthur on the bed.

"We make beautiful children, you know."

"I remember," Arthur said finally, voice quiet, eyes closed.

"Have you thought of a name?"

"Would 'Morgana' be too inappropriate."

"I was thinking 'Guinevere.'"

"Mm. I agree.

"Can we name the next one 'William'?"

Arthur snuggled closer. "That's fine."

"And then maybe 'Morgana.'"

Arthur sat up quickly. "Merlin. No. There is no way I am having three children."

"I had five, Arthur. _Five_."

Arthur smirked. "I know. They were brilliant. But I am only having one."

"You already agreed to two."

"You tricked me. Took advantage of me not paying attention."

"That'll teach you to not pay attention!"

The babe stirred and let out a small cry.

"Give her here." Arthur took Gwen and lifted her to her breast to feet, smile tender.

* * *

Merlin bounced Lance on his knees, the boy squealing gleefully, when Gwen rushed in, chased by Elyan.

"Papa! Papa!" Gwen jumped behind him to escape her younger brother, the boy laughing as he reached for Gwen's skirts.

"Gwen tugged my hair!" He pre-empted.

"Gwen!" Merlin exclaimed, pretending to be shocked. "How dare you tug your brother's hair!"

"But he told me my nose looked like a frog, Papa!"

Turning a stern eye on Elyan, Merlin frowned. "Didn't I tell you not to tease your sister?"

Elyan grinned. "It's not like she can't protect herself..."

"Gwen, stop making faces at him."

"I'm not!"

Merlin turned and smiled at her. "What did I tell you?"

"That you have eyes in the back of your head," she pouted.

"_MERLIN_!" Arthur's shrill voice pierced the house.

"Is Mum going to give us another sister?" Gwen asked brightly.

"A brother!" Elyan chimed in, nudging Lance's cheek.

The doors to the sitting room flew open and typical just-found-out-I'm-pregnant-Arthur stalked in. "_Again_? How poten—"

"Darling!" Merlin interrupted. "I'm _so_ happy to hear the news!" He gave her a look that hopefully conveyed _save it for later, love_.

Arthur scowled.

"Mum! Am I going to have a sister?" Gwen asked quickly, skipping to hang on Arthur's skirts.

Her frustrated expression softened to love as she knelt and kissed Gwen's forehead. "One may never know, sweetheart. I would hope so. Your _father_ seems to like giving you brothers." Then the stern tone was back again. "Merlin, we are _not_ going to go through all of the knights. Do you understand me?"

"Sorry, you might have to explain it to me later."

"Don't tempt me. I might have to make you cut off—"

"_And _on that note, my children, why don't you go bother Henri in the kitchen for a snack!"

Gwen reached for Lance and they left the room, Arthur kissing each of them on their way out.

"You're not really angry, Arthur."

She groaned and then collapsed into his lap. "_Mer_lin. I _hate_ being pregnant. It only reminds me that I'm a woman."

"A lovely one too," Merlin capitulated, kissing her cheek, her ear, her neck. "And you haven't thought of yourself as a man since we courted."

"Don't remind me," Arthur said sullenly, despite the hand pushing her skirts up.

"_Here_, Merlin?"

"Henri knows the code," Merlin murmured, eyes flashing as the doors swung shut and locked themselves. "Besides... You're always so ravishing when you're fussy."

Flushing, she wrapped her arms around Merlin's neck. "Only you, Merlin. Only you I permit to speak to me like this..."

Merlin laughed and kissed her. "So what are the name choices?"

"It had better be a girl. And if it is, then the names Igraine."

"Perfect."

"And if it's a boy, then Bernard. In honour of your father."

"Arthur, my father's name was _Balinor_."

"Yes, and if we name our child that, he will be forever mocked."

Merlin laughed. "I love you."

"I love you too. Now, are you going to force me to take _matters_ into my own hands, or are you going to take me on this very sofa?"

"I hope we have many many children."

"No sex for you," Arthur laughed breathlessly as Merlin flipped her down onto the pillows for a thorough ravishing.


	7. Skip Straight to Comfortable

Then there are lives where he and Arthur never meet at all. This, he surmises, is one of them.

Checking into his hotel in Chicago in 1943, Merlin waits impatiently for the lift to bring him to his floor so he can just sleep. He dumps his things at the foot of the bed and sets his alarm for the merger meeting the next morning. Then falls face-first into the duvet and sleeps.

The meeting finally ends at seven, leaving Merlin drained and exhausted.

"Morgan! Morgan!"

He jumps at the hand on his arm, one of the other people from the meeting smiling up at him. "Ah, yes. Julia?

"Yup! That's me! Hey listen, we were going to go to this bar down the street, want to come?"

He smiles as he sees right through her. "So sorry. I'm still... I'm still tired from the trip and I'm absolutely exhausted."

"Oh. Oh, okay." Her face falls a bit, but she smiles anyway. "Next time then. It's great. We can show you around the city."

"Next time."

She trots away and Merlin wonders how young she thinks he is. She's probably no older than thirty, twenty-eight or some such age. Merlin's thirty-nine. Granted, he looks young. He always looks young.

In the end, he finds himself back in his hotel room, unable to sleep. He watches some horrid American telly for a bit before squeezing himself into the window seat, staring across the city. It's not like he hasn't looked for Arthur. He's spent his life thusfar keeping an eye out for him. He's not found him. Not in England. Not in France. Not that he knows, anyway. For all he knew, Arthur could be much older than him or much younger than him. Different circles of influence. Different life-styles. He sighs and presses at his temples, cursing, once again, his decision to go into business. Tipping his head against the cool glass, he opens his eyes to the scenery before him. There was a drug store, a florist, some sort of restaurant, and a pub on the corner. The last catches his attention. The name is The King's Wizard. It makes him huff a laugh because it makes him think of Arthur. Maybe he'll get a drink tomorrow night. Memories of Arthur flood his mind and he closes his eyes, remembering all of their lives.

* * *

He ends up falling asleep there, curled up against the window. And he wakes, shivery and feeling gritty. So he cleans his teeth and strips properly to slip beneath the borrowed sheets in a part of the world where he doesn't belong.

The phone jars him awake, reminding him of another day of meetings and the harried wake-up call he requested on his way into the hotel. So he dresses and grabs a coffee on the way out to head to his meetings. They only last until 2:00 today, but Merlin thinks it's a bit too early to be slouching into the pub. Instead he gets lunch at the restaurant next door, discovering that it serves poorly-made gyros. He eats them anyway. He waits until at least after three before shuffling into the pub and ordering a pint—a beer. Whatever they call it here in America. The place is, predictably, half-empty, only wrecked and shaggy people slumped over whatever poison of their choosing.

Merlin shakes his head and almost regrets coming in. Nothing like Arthur here. He lifts his eyes to the specials board as he sinks onto a barstool.

"What'll it be?"

Merlin hums a little at the question. "What do you recommend?"

"The Golden Prince."

Merlin blinks and then laughs sharply. "Okay."

The bartender shakes his head though. "Come back for it tomorrow night. Aaron will be in and he makes it the best. For tonight, I'd recommend the Long Island."

Merlin nods. "Sure then."

"From out of town?"

He smiles wryly. "I figured that obvious."

The bloke grins back. "Sorry. Business, I take it?" He jerks his chin at Merlin's suit.

"Yeah. Yeah, business."

They chat when he's not busy, but eventually, Merlin sways back to his hotel, feeling pleasantly just a bit pissed. He asks for a wake-up call and then slumps into bed, dreaming pleasant things about Arthur.

* * *

Julia asks him again to go out for drinks and he doesn't have the heart to tell her that he prefers men. Or well. He prefers _Arthur_. No matter the gender. So he begs off, telling her he's a headache and pats her hand, giving her a kiss on the cheek. As if that isn't enough of a clue. She smiles anyway and waves him off. He's here for another four days.

He loosens the tie as soon as he's back in his hotel room, flinging the thing on the floor before slithering out of his clothes. He breathes a sigh, shucking all of the responsibility of the day and pulls out the jeans and shirt for casual wear that he brought. He slips his shoes back on and puts the hat on his head before heading down to the pub again. Maybe the nice bartender will give him a free drink for being a repeat customer.

He settles down at the bar and scans the room, a more respectable crowd tonight. Not nearly so many derelict drunks tonight.

"What'll it be?"

Merlin looks up to answer the bartender and then barks a laugh. "Oh. Of course it's you." He smiles widely into Arthur's age-touched face, still handsome and brilliant.

Arthur smiles. "_Mer_lin. I'd almost given up."

"I as well." He leans over the bar. "Been a good life?"

"Mm. You know. It's a life. Significantly more empty without you, you know."

"Of course."

"Such arrogance, Merlin."

"Yes. It's Morgan, actually. This life."

"Ah. Well I'm Aaron. Pleasure's all mine though."

"Are you actually American?"

Arthur ducks his head a bit with a flush. Odd on a grown man. "I'm not. But my parents moved here when I was five. So yeah, kind of."

"I see." Merlin smiles, drinking is fill of Arthur's face. "It's been a while since I've seen you like this."

"Mm. Shall I get off? John can cover for me. Where's your place?"

"Across the street."

Arthur laughs. "You're an easy lay."

"Shh! Think of how your voice carries, Arthur. We don't need to invite trouble."

Arthur grins though and flips a towel over his shoulder, heading into the back. He returns a few minutes later with two shots in hand. "Here. The Golden Prince. On the house. Courtesy of me, of course." Arthur winks at him and tips his own back. "Now let's go back to your hotel room and have wild sex?"

Merlin can't help throwing his head back and laughing. He gathers his jacket and hat before standing. "Let's go."

Arthur vaults over the bar—impressive, for his age. Shut _up_, Merlin; do you want sex or not? And Merlin leads him up to his hotel room.

"Are you rich this life, Merlin?"

"Comfortably."

Arthur looks at the mess he's managed to make of the hotel room in a short period of time and shakes his head. "Just messy."

"Shut _up_, Arthur; do you want sex or not?" he teases, pulling the shirt over his head.

Arthur steps close, reverently, leaning his forehead against Merlin's. "You can't possibly know how much I've missed you."

"As much as I've missed you?" Merlin murmurs in return.

Arthur's laugh is breathy and quiet. "Fair enough. Is that bed worth it's salt?"

"Mm, it's withstood three nights of hard use so far, so I wager it's just fine," Merlin says seriously.

Arthur jerks back, a shocked expression on his face, quickly turning into suspicion. "Quit jerking my leg, Merlin. We both know there's no one else."

"But... If we do this, I'll never be able to face my wife when I go back home."

Arthur pushes him, hooking a heel on the back of his ankle. "Right. Besides. I'm the only one that you've ever married. Ever."

Merlin laughs and then leans forward to pull Arthur close by his shirt. "You sound so silly as an American."

"Sorry. Do you want my posh accent back?"

"God no. You'd only sound smugger."

"I'll show you smug," he grumbles good-naturedly, stripping down and then stripping Merlin. He straddles Merlin, leaning down to kiss him.

Merlin kisses him slowly, relearning his lips, mapping his body. "How old are you, Arthur?"

Arthur frowns. "Forty-six. Why?"

"I'm only thirty-nine. And you're getting a little thick, you know," Merlin teases, running his hands along Arthur's waist. "Not so _fit_ as your younger days."

Arthur sniffs. "More to love, Merlin. More to love. And I'm in good shape for forty-six. So I'd stop complaining. Mr. Skin-and-bones."

Merlin laughs and pushes Arthur off him, pulling him close as they lay side-by-side. "I've missed you so much."

"Is that my cue to peg you?"

"What is it with all these..._American_ phrases..." Merlin rolls his eyes, but reaches down to give Arthur's cock a long pull, beginning the touch and tease as they slowly and comfortably make love.

* * *

"Have you even _left_ my room, Arthur?" Merlin sheds his jacket and toes his shoes off, falling over Arthur on the bed.

"Careful, Merlin, you're going to break me! And yes, I've left. I had work earlier today."

Merlin is silent a moment, thoughts spinning. He settles for beginning casually, "You know... I go back to England in a day."

Arthur is silent too.

"Do you want to come with me?"

Arthur shifts and Merlin rolls off him so they're lying side-by-side. Arthur looks at him. Arthur smiles. "I'd expect nothing less."

Merlin matches his grin. "Brilliant. Sex before or after you pack your things?"

Arthur laughs. "You go back. Meet you when I get there."

"It's a promise."

"Always."

* * *

Arthur pulls himself to his feet, years later, shuffling towards the bed. Merlin is propped up against the pillows, reading. His hair still curls about his forehead, but it's well past grey and turning silver.

"I hope we meet earlier. Next life?" Arthur slides between the sheets, turning out the lamp on his bedside table.

Merlin makes some noise of acknowledgement, scratching his nose absently.

"Don't you? Merlin?"

He doesn't bother responding, reaching over to pat Arthur's bicep. Arthur snorts. "You're not even listening to me."

"What?" Merlin looks over his reading glasses. "Sorry. You were saying?"

"You're lovely. If a bit harmful to a guy's ego."

Merlin smiles. "Go to sleep. You've a doctor's appointment in the morning."

Settling for a comfortable grumble, Arthur nestles into the sheet.

"I love you," Merlin says as Arthur begins to drift off.

"I love you too," Arthur murmurs, falling asleep with a smile.


	8. Without You

Arthur knows that Merlin exists in the world somewhere. Or will. He can kind of feel his presence. As he goes to school. As he chases girls on the playground. As he pleases his father and is the apple of his mother's eye. His beautiful mother. His kind father. His friends and teachers were kind.

Essentially, it was the perfect life.

The life that Arthur wished he'd had all those life times ago.

He hadn't found Merlin though.

As he got older, the feeling of Merlin being _there_ started dwindling. It bothered him as he made friends that Merlin still hadn't appeared. And the feeling of him being _there_ had been dwindling. He tried to find him, but the signal, so to speak had been fading.

He woke up one night and knew then. Merlin was gone. Somehow he just knew. He moved to his cabin's window and looked out at the night landscape. The stars seemed dimmer.

Then he went back to bed.

The next morning he stumbled down the hall to the loo, went about his morning business. Sat down for breakfast and realised that this was what the world was like without Merlin.

His chest grew tight as the grief swept through him, breath coming short and shallow.

Looking down at the hint of peaches on his plate, he could have laughed. If he'd had the breath. Apparently they just weren't meant to be without one another for very long.


	9. One Apart

"You busy this afternoon?"

Merlin looked up. "No. Go to the cinema?"

Arthur nodded, slipping into the desk next to him. "Yeah. Sounds fine."

"Brilliant."

Arthur sighed. "Merlin..."

"What. What, Arthur?"

"Who's Arthur?" Gemma asked, throwing herself into the seat in front of Merlin's.

"A bloke we know," Merlin excused.

Arthur nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh. He nice?"

"Yes," Arthur said, while Merlin said, "Only when it matters."

Gemma laughed. "Agree much there?"

"We'll continue this later, Matt," Arthur muttered to Merlin as class began.

"Right, Aaron."

* * *

"Can we go to yours?" Merlin asked after the film.

"No. Can we go to yours?"

"No."

* * *

Merlin threw his bag down on his desk.

"Something wrong?"

"I think I finally understand what a prick your father is," Merlin grumbled.

"My father?" Arthur turned to him, surprise written all over his face.

"Oh. Nevermind. It's nothing."

"What about my father, Merlin?"

"Nothing, Arthur. It's nothing. Nevermind. It didn't mean anything."

Arthur reached over, gripping his wrist. "What. Are. You. Talking. About."

Merlin rolled his eyes and jerked at his wrist. "Fine. Fine. Come to mine after school."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at him and then ducked his head as class began.

* * *

"What's this all about, Merlin?" Arthur asked, catching up to Merlin as school let out.

"Matt! Aaron! Hi!" Gemma caught up to them. "What are your plans for this weekend?"

Merlin gave her a smile. "Nothing really."

"Aaron?"

Arthur flicked his eyes towards Merlin. "Nothing really."

"You lads are pretty dull, aren't you."

"Lovely, Gemma," Arthur drawled. "A pleasure to see you too."

"Well I was just asking because I wanted to see if you'd be interested in coming to my party. That's all. No need to be a wanker."

Merlin laughed. "We'll see, Gemma. Sorry, but I have to get home today. And Ar—Aaron's taking me.

"Cheers then!" Arthur gave her a wave and then pushed Merlin in front of him. "Let's go."

They walked most of the way to Merlin's house in silence, Arthur asking the odd question every now and again. Mostly it was silence, Merlin's monosyllabic replies matching his stone-like face.

"This is where you live?" Arthur exclaimed quietly as they arrived in front of a large house.

"Yeah," Merlin muttered. "Come on." He pushed through the gate and stalked up the long drive. He pushed the front door open and dropped his things, slinking up the stairs. "Bring your stuff. Stay for dinner."

Arthur frowned. "Alright..."

"Don't worry. The butler will get it."

"Merlin? Merlin, what's—"

"Ask me in my room," Merlin said without turning around.

Arthur held his tongue until they were behind closed doors in Merlin's room.

"I don't have any pictures. Don't bother looking."

"Merlin, what's going on?"

"You'll see at dinner," he said, face tight. "Can we just not worry about it now?"

Arthur looked around at Merlin's room. "Eclectic."

"Whatever," Merlin muttered, rearranging some magazines on his desk.

"Merlin. What's going on. Come on now. Tell me."

Merlin sighed, running a hand through his already unruly hair. "Arthur—"

"Just tell me the truth, Merlin. What's this all about? I'm tired of the side-stepping."

"Really, Arthur? Really? Because I gathered that I also was tired of it. So can you just leave it for now? I don't want..." Dragging a hand over his face, Merlin cursed. "Arthur I didn't..."

"Didn't what?" Arthur moved closer, putting a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"Oh for the love of..." Merlin gripped Arthur's wrist and dragged him out of the room and down the hall. "Father! Father?"

"Matthew! What did I tell you about shouting in the house!"

Merlin felt Arthur stop short as he caught sight of Merlin's father. "Oh shit."

Uther glared. "Who's this then?"

"Father, this is my friend Aaron. Aaron, this is my father, Mr. Ulric Allens."

"Excellent of you to remember your manners. Aaron, it is a pleasure to meet you. Have we met before?"

Turning to look at Arthur, Merlin frowned. He looked pale and wide-eyed. Merlin elbowed him.

"Um, yes. Pleasure to meet you, Sire."

"Sire?"

"Sorry. Sir. I meant, Sir."

Ulric frowned. "Very well. Was there anything else, Matthew?"

"No, father. I just wanted to introduce you."

"And to let you know, Sir, that we'd be having dinner at mine."

Ulric arched an eyebrow. "Matthew?"

"Oh. Um. Yes. Yes, father. Aaron's invited me to dinner. So I won't be home for dinner tonight."

Sighing, Merlin's 'father' shook his head. "I would appreciate some more advanced notice, but very well. Do be home before ten."

Merlin nodded. "Of course, Father." Arthur's hand jerked his as soon as Ulric returned to his study. "Alright, Arthur?"

Arthur glared at him and dragged him back to Merlin's room where he gathered his things and then dragged Merlin down to the front hall. "Get your coat. We're leaving now."

"Right..."

"I'm not far."

There was again silence as Merlin and Arthur moved from one house to the next. Arthur's place was a smaller house, comfortable and well-kept, nicely decorated.

Arthur pushed the front door open. "Mum!"

"Aaron! Hullo, darling!" A blonde woman hurried into the main hallway. "Oh, you've brought a friend! Hello!" She held out a hand. "I'm Isabelle."

"I invited Matt for dinner, if that's alright, Mum?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Pleasure to meet you, Matt!"

"P-pleasure to meet you too..." Merlin stuttered.

"We're going to head up to my room before dinner."

Isabelle smiled. "Of course. I'll call when it's ready."

Arthur dragged Merlin up the stairs to his room. "Alright, Merlin. Snap out of it."

"Arthur. God. _Arthur_. Arthur your mum is Igraine."

"I _know_, Merlin. I know."

"Now I know why you never had me over."

"And I know why you didn't have _me_ over."

"I didn't want to scar you!"

"And I..." Arthur flushed and looked away. "I wanted to keep her for myself, you know."

Merlin groaned and invited himself to Arthur's bed.

"You know I wank there, right?"

"Lovely, Arthur. That's great. Just... Just great."

Arthur smirked. "Just wanted you to know, you know?"

"No. Prat."

Arthur sank onto his bed as well and let the silence elapse.

"We... Should we, I mean..." Merlin looked up at Arthur.

"Just say it," he replied tiredly. "Because I'm probably thinking the same thing."

"They should meet."

"I know."

"But it means we would be step-brothers."

"I know."

"So we couldn't be..."

"I _know_, Merlin!" Arthur dragged his hands through his hair. "I _know_. It would be. God. It would be awful."

"But we should."

"Merlin..." Arthur breathed, voice a low whine.

Shifting uncomfortably, Merlin avoided his gaze. "It's one life. We can... I mean, we can give them this, right?"

"Maybe... Maybe they'll be okay with it."

Merlin fixed Arthur with a harsh glare. "Your dad already thinks I'm a poof. Just because of..." He gestured down at his body.

Arthur grinned and flipped so he was straddling Merlin's hips. "I love... _this_, you know."

With a breathless laugh, Merlin brought his hands up to Arthur's cheeks. "Once before we're 'family'?"

"You know, we're so sure that this will happen. But maybe they'll hate each other. Then we'll be free—"

"Arthur." Merlin fixed him with a look. "That would be like us hating each other."

"But we remember. They don't. So there's..."

"Well yeah. But whenever we find Gwen, she's usually with Lance. Even if neither of them remember. They'll love one another. They're soul-mates."

"I hate you for being so noble sometimes, Merlin."

"Well if you aren't, then I have to be."

Arthur responded by grinding down.

"We're not of consenting age, you know," Merlin said breathlessly.

"Do you not want to have sex with me, Merlin?"

"I want. Oh, I want, Arthur."

"Then have sex with me. We're centuries old. We're consenting. We're fine."

Merlin pulled his face down to his, kissing him fiercely.

* * *

They dressed quickly when Igraine called them down to dinner.

"Dinner smells lovely, Mrs. Pederson," Merlin smiled.

"Thank you, Matt. I hope it tastes as good as it smells!"

Arthur pulled Merlin's chair out for him and then slid into his own seat next to him. "I'm sure it's great, Mum."

"So, have you known one another long?" Igraine asked as she served the sheppherd's pie.

"Ages," Merlin said with a grin.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Since primary."

"Really! Well, how come you never brought him round?"

Arthur shrugged. "Dunno, Mum."

"This is... Wow. This is really great, Mrs. Pederson," Merlin said.

"Oh, please. Isabelle is fine. I'm glad you like it!"

"Yes! It's loads better than what I have at home."

"Oh? At home? What's..." She paused, uncertain.

"Oh no, you see, my father just... _really_ doesn't have a hand for cooking. So he hires someone, you see. But it's never stuff like this. Home-made and wonderful." He beamed as Arthur squeezed his knee. "We have take-out pretty frequently, you see."

Igraine flushed. "Gracious. Well,..."

"Why don't we invite them for supper some time, Mum. You'd like Mer—Matt's father."

Igraine sat back, folding her arms. "Aaron..."

"Yes, Mum!"

"You boys aren't trying to set me up, are you?"

Arthur shared a look with Merlin and burst out laughing. "Not at all, Mum."

"My father's just pretty lonely, and he doesn't have any friends," Merlin explained.

"_Wow_, Matt. That's harsh," Arthur commented.

"It's true."

"Alright, alright. What night would work well for your father, Matt?"

"Next Friday or Saturday?"

Igraine nodded. "Alright."

* * *

The week in between gave Arthur and Merlin a deadline. They spent as much time together as possible, memorising each curve and dip in the other's young body before it would be seen as weird and incestuous.

Merlin managed to convince Uther to join him at his mate's house for dinner on Friday, and they showed up at Arthur's place exactly on time, wine in hand. Igraine smiled and accepted it graciously as an expression of curious beguilement took hold of Uther's face.

"We may need a strategic retreat," Arthur murmured to Merlin.

"I agree," he said through a pasted-on smile.

"Code word, 'project'?"

"Sounds good to me." They moved towards the table where Igraine had salad, yorkshire pudding, and steak set out beautifully. "I think she figured out that we were trying to set her up."

"Yeah," Arthur breathed, slipping into a chair across from Merlin, leaving his father and mother to sit across from one another.

It really worked too well, because Uther broke his curfew of ten and Arthur and Merlin were able to escape from the table after forty-five minutes.

"Matthew! Let's go," Uther's voice penetrated their lip-locked haze around 11:40.

Merlin groaned. "Why are we such good people..."

"We're not," Arthur groaned in return, rolling off of Merlin. He offered him a hand up. "We're terrible. Masochists."

Merlin laughed. "Right. Like when I was a girl, and you made me tie you up and spank you."

Arthur coloured. "Your—my—your father's waiting."

Rolling his eyes, Merlin stepped over to the mirror to straighten himself. "This is going to get so messed up, so quickly.

"No shit..."

* * *

A month later, Uther and Igraine were having dinner out at least once a week and spending long periods of time together on the weekends. Thankfully, this left Merlin and Arthur to do the same.

"It's going to end soon," Merlin said blandly over the phone one night.

"Have you _seen_ it?"

Rolling his eyes, Merlin snorted. "That was always Morgana's forte, not mine. I'm no seer, Arthur, and you know that."

"True, but still. You'd think, after all these centuries, you'd at least have picked up some of those skills that have never previously been your forte."

"Don't judge me, Arthur Pendragon."

"Don't be so quick to discredit yourself, Merlin. I mean, I'm not judging you."

"Even if you sound like it?"

Arthur made an exasperated noise through the phone lines. "I mean it! You should hone those skills, should you ever have to use them—really _use_ them again!"

Merlin was too flustered to say anything, blushing.

"Merlin?"

"I'm here. It's—um. No, you're right."

"Really?" Arthur sounded inordinately pleased.

"I've never really. Well. I have things. We can talk more about it later. It's time for dinner. I'm sure your father wants to ramble on at dinner about your mum. God, it's awful. Hearing Uther blather on about romantic things and... it's like he's found his Juliet."

"He has," Arthur replied quietly.

"I know! I know," Merlin said quickly. "It's just. Well. You know your father. He always means well, but it somehow doesn't come across in the language of human beings."

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur replied drily. "Enjoy your dinner with my father who has _feelings_. Goodbye."

"I'll see you at school. Later."

"Tomorrow, yes."

* * *

It turned out that it really was sooner rather than later. As soon as Merlin sat down next to Uther at the table, Uther grabbed his hand. "Matthew."

"Dear god, here it comes."

Uther straightened, a constipated expression stealing across his features. "I beg your pardon."

"Sor—just..." Merlin shook his head. "What were you going to say?"

It was a weak segue at best, but Uther took it. "Matt, I wanted to ask how you felt about my getting married to Isabelle."

"I think it's great, Father. Absolutely brilliant."

Uther's eyebrows shot up, thrown from his momentum. "You do?"

"Yes. You clearly love the woman. And, if I do say so myself, you're a better person with her. I am certain she loves you back. You are pretty much soulmates."

He thought he detected a blotch of colour on Uther's cheeks. "Well. Um. Yes. Of course. Because I was planning on asking her to marry me."

Merlin nodded sagely. "A wise move, Father. You'll be very happy."

"And what do you think of Aaron?"

"Love Aaron. He's a fantastic bloke."

The words were out before he could register them. But Uther was put off by all of the bluntness of Merlin's feelings and just nodded. "Very well."

"Great."

* * *

"I'm guessing you had 'the talk' last night?" Arthur grumbled.

"Yes."

"Great.

"Great." The trudged next to one another into class and plopped themselves down in their seats. "No doubt, Uther was much more awkward about it than Igraine."

"Undoubtedly, bro," Arthur said with a grin.

"God. Don't. Just don't even. That's disgusting."

"Maybe we can move to America again. Or the Netherlands. Be 'brothers' living together."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Even when we did that that one time in Italy, everyone knew."

"They did!"

"Oh don't even pretend, Arthur."

He shrugged. "Oh well. We could though. Still be together then."

"We'll worry about it later. When we're old enough to move out and have a flat. Support a flat."

Arthur grinned. "Merlin. Ever the pragmatist."

"Only because you're not."

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," the teacher said. And class began.

'I'd move to America with you,' read the note that Arthur slipped onto his desk.

'I'd move anywhere with you,' Merlin wrote back. He was pleased to see the tips of Arthur's ears flush. But they had time.

* * *

It turns out, however, that Uther and Igraine wanted to get married. Now. Well. Not exactly now, but as soon as they could and still have a planned wedding.

Merlin couldn't exactly say that he was surprised. Neither would Arthur, if he'd needed to ask.

"At least we'll get to escort one another down the aisle," Merlin said with a large grin.

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur drawled. "The _wrong_ way."

"So," Merlin pouted.

"Should I bring you a flower?"

"Don't tease."

Arthur laughed, rolling over on Merlin's comfortable bed. "I hope we'll be moving in with you."

"We'll probably move to a new house."

"No, I don't think so. Well," Arthur paused. "If Mum wanted him to he would."

Merlin nodded.

"I'd be sleeping right down the hall. Every night."

Merlin groaned, flopping back on the bedspread. "Stop it, you awful tease."

Twining their pinkies together, Arthur stared at the ceiling, ignoring the slow but constant chatter downstairs of his parents and the planners downstairs. "I'm sorry..."

"What for?"

"That it's never been your father."

He felt Merlin look at him. "It's fine."

"Still. You deserve to know him at least once."

Merlin shrugged. "It could still happen."

They lay in silence for a while before Arthur sat up with a sigh. "Telly?"

"Sure."

* * *

The wedding came and went, and everyone had looked glamourous and Merlin could hardly help it when he shoved Arthur into an empty room, locked the door and ravaged him. "We're not related until they adopt us and fill the paperwork," he panted. Arthur only moaned.

They drove home separate from Uther and Igraine, the two of them jaunting off immediately for a warm, lazy holiday. Leaving Merlin and Arthur to their respective houses for the two weeks. They bounced between them, christening each room. Except for Uther's and Igraine's. The idea was enough to put them off for the rest of the day.

Merlin and Arthur were snug on the couch in front of the telly when Uther and Igraine came in the door, laughing and arm-in-arm. They jumped a foot apart, looking up over the back of the couch. "Hullo!"

"Matthew! Aaron. Hello boys."

"Fa—Mr. Allens. Hi, Mum."

"Hello! How lovely to see you two!"

"Did you have a good time?"

"Yes, it was lovely," Uther said heartily, kissing Igraine.

Merlin and Arthur share looks of disgust and horror. Uther and physical affection should not be in the same hemisphere.

"I know this is kind of soon, boys, but we were discussing moving in together..."

"We assumed that, Mum."

Igraine smiled. "Oh. Right. Of course."

"And we're fine with it, Mrs. Pederson—Allen," Merlin smiled.

Uther blinked, looking between them. "Right. Well. I suppose that's sorted then."

"Do call me Isabelle, please, Matt."

"How soon?" Arthur asked, shifting to face them more properly.

"We were going to start looking immediately." Igraine blushed. "After we unpacked, of course. And settled."

* * *

Merlin and Arthur spent more time entwined than actually having sex—the closeness was enough—as their parents argued downstairs over the new house. Igraine refused to budge on some things, and Uther refused to back down. In the end, they found a new house, and all of their belongings were organised into boxes and placed in their new rooms. It was a nice house. A little in between Uther's and Igaine's houses—larger than what Arthur was used to this life, and smaller than what Merlin was used to. But it's nice. And Arthur and Merlin have rooms next to one another, of course, Igraine and Uther at the other end of the house. They move to a new school. Graduate, room together at Uni. Graduate.

"Grab your coats, boys. I'm taking us to dinner for a celebration," Uther says grandly.

The 'boys' shared a look and then obediently fetched their jackets, bumping into one another affectionately as soon as they were out of sight of their parents.

Over a rather comfortably dinner, Uther and Igraine nuzzled each other to the point of disgust for Merlin and Arthur. Half of the time, Merlin thought they did it just for that reason. Half of the time he would catch Arthur smiling fondly at his parents when he thought no one was looking. But Merlin saw. They'd persuaded Uther and Igraine against adoption of the other son. Uther hadn't understood, but Merlin was afraid that Igraine did. She had dropped the subject first.

"I got a job in Chicago," Merlin blurted into a lull of conversation.

Uther's eyebrows shot up, Igraine smiling happily. "That's fantastic, Matt!"

"Congratulations, Matthew. With who?"

He could see Arthur rolling his eyes, but continued. "With Fermi, actually."

"Oh that's great!" Igraine exclaimed, giving Uther's hand a squeeze.

"Yes. Excellent. I'm quite proud, Matthew."

Merlin swallowed, risking a glance at Arthur, catching his eyes just in time to see the hurt that quickly fled behind a broad smile.

"And for you, Aaron?" Uther turned his eyes to his other 'son.'

"Well," Arthur said slowly. "I have several choices..."

"Yes?"

"I, um... had an offer from Chase Bank, in Chicago. The Bank of England also offered me a position. Also, Fifth Street Finance Corp in New York."

Uther smiled. "Quite prestigious. Well done."

Merlin didn't have to see Arthur's face to know he was smiling hugely.

"Thank you, Father."

Uther's eyebrows shot up, his expression a little more than stunned. "Oh. Yes. Yes, of course."

"S-sorr—"

"No," Uther interrupted. "No, don't apologise. I'm honoured that you would call me 'father.' Thank you."

"Thank you," Arthur murmured a little breathlessly.

Under the table, Merlin put a hand on his leg, his tremors passing up his arm.

"Do you know which position you'll take?" Igraine asked.

"Well, I was thinking, since Mer—Matt's going to be in Chicago, it would make sense that we could share a flat there and have the added benefit of knowing at least one other person in the city when we arrive." Arthur's hand came under the table, warm over Merlin's.

Their parents nodded. "Well, we're a bit disappointed, of course, that you'll be moving so far away..."

"But we can always come visit," Igraine finished with a warm smile at the both of them.

"Of course! You'd always be welcome!" Merlin smiled.

Arthur squeezed his hand.

"Just.. don't show up unannounced."

"Yes," Arthur said smoothly. "I might be away travelling."

"And I'm sure particle accelerator work will keep me busy..."

"Of course. When are you leaving?" Igraine asked.

"Well, I start in a month!"

"Giving you quite the travel expense too, Mer—Matt," Arthur teased.

He fairly preened. "Of course. I'll be a valuable employee. Brain power, you understand."

Arthur snorted as Igraine chuckled.

"And you, Aaron?" Uther asked.

"Well, I'll follow him a month later."

They'd both agreed that it would be nice for Arthur to spend some time with his parents without Merlin around. Because then he'd be spending a whole lot of time with Merlin. Without his _parents_ around.

"Well," Uther lifted his glass. "My sincere congratulations to you both. And we'll be sure to come and visit."

"And we expect you home for the holidays," Igraine said, her words broking no argument.

"Of course," Arthur agreed immediately.

* * *

Merlin greeted him at the airport with open arms and a smile. "Welcome to Chicago."

Arthur smiled widely, dropping his carry-on to embrace him and kiss him soundly. "I'm gladly come."

"Of course, _sire_."

"Haven't heard that one in a while."

"That's because I usually use it to refer to your—"

"Mum and Father send their love!" Arthur interrupted quickly with a wide smile.

"Lovely. Way to kill the mood, _Ar_thur," Merlin groused.

"It's not like we can have sex until we're at ours anyway. Relax."

"Of course. Of course," Merlin pinched his bum. Hard.

"You're so going to be punished for that," Arthur muttered darkly, reclaiming his baggage. "You call a car?"  
"No. I drove. And I look forward to it."

"Drove? Dear goodness. Might as well say my prayers now!" Despite his misgivings, Merlin got them home safely and speedily, magicking his things upstairs as they exited the cars. "Forgot about that..." Arthur said.

"Hm? Oh. Right. I haven't used it much in this life." Merlin pushed open the door to their flat—apartment, and pushed Arthur against the door as soon as it was shut. "Welcome home, Arthur."

"Gladly I'm come," Arthur smiled fondly.

* * *

Uther and Igraine didn't go out of their way to visit their sons. Maybe Igraine had seen something. But they always went home for holidays. And Igraine would smile, something secret, kissing them both on the forehead. "Welcome back," she'd say and then they would sit down to an easy dinner, Uther laughing and smiling at Igraine.

Some five or six years later, however, when Merlin and Arthur were home for Christmas, Uther looked up at his sons while Igraine was retrieving brownies from the oven. "You've given me the greatest gift ever," he began quietly.

"What?" Merlin blurted with a quick glance at Arthur.

"I figure you two had a plan when you had me meet Isabelle." His gaze shifted to the kitchen door where she was hidden from view. "But I wanted to thank you. There's nothing better that you could give me ever."

Arthur smiled first, reaching over to put a hand on Uther's. "It's alright, Father. We just want you to be happy."

"And that's all I want for the two of you, you know," Uther said, voice sharp but unlike the sharpness of old. It held all sorts of affection.

"I'm brilliantly happy," Merlin said. And by looking at him, you could see that it couldn't be more true. "Everything's worked out."

Arthur hummed in agreement. "Yes. Yes it did."


	10. Through the Woods

Arthur spurred his horse towards the prone well-dressed figure on the forest floor ahead.

"Milord!" Some of his knights followed him, armour clinking. "Wait!"

Arthur jumped off his animal, worry for the stranger apparently unconscious in the middle of the forest growing as he saw the fine clothes stained with blood.

"Lord Allen, please wait!"

His knights drew round him as he rolled the slight figure over, worry raging into panic just before the world went black.

* * *

He came round eventually, refraining from groaning so as to not alert what seemed to be his captors. His wrists were bound quite well, legs uncobbled. Not that that would matter. He was tied to a sodding tree.

"He's awake!" A shout came.

Apparently his scowl gave him away.

Merlin blustered over, clean and unharmed. The other men gave way and backed off.

"Of course it's you," Arthur said drily.

Merlin smiled. "You're fine then."

"Except for a lump on my head. Merlin, why are you cavorting with outlaws? I assume that's who the rest of these people are?" He frowned. "And my men?"

"I made sure no one hurt them."

"Lovely."

"Sorry 'bout the bump. We didn't know who it was."

"We?"

"Yes."

"Is this for ransom?"

"Yes."

"Honest."

Merlin gave him a crooked grin and bent forward, kissing his temple."Yes."

The pain had vanished.

"Thank you, Merlin," he said wryly, now that the pain was not distracting.

"Yes. Well. Now we need to decide what to do with you."

Arthu sighed. "My father will pay."

Merlin nodded. "Okay."

"Will you let me go?"

"Me?" His eyes twinkled. "Never. Our contingent? Yes."

Huffing a small laugh, Arthur smiled. "Great. I've been looking for you."

"And I you, of course," Merlin nodded. "I told them that you're to be uninjured, else your father won't pay."

"This standard treatment?"

Merlin rolled his eyes to hide the smile. "Not everyone is as picky as your father, Arthur."

"Yes. Yes, of course."

"I have to go."

"Was it real?" Arthur asked quickly.

"Was what?"

"Your injuries."

"My..." Merlin's eyes went wide. "Oh." He gave a quiet bark of laughter. "Some of them were. Mostly illusion. Magic."

"Do your men know?" The concept of Merlin 'having' men was a bit foreign to him. Speaking of... "Are they your men?"

He flushed, looking away in embarrassment. "Well, yes. Kind of. we sort of vote, but they look to me for approval."

"And your magic?"

"They don't really know. They might suspect," Merlin said with a surprising amount of scorn.

Arthur blinked.

"They don't really know. They think it's mostly sleight of hand and simple tricks. But they sense something off about me and maybe that's why they look to me for leadership."

"Even though you'd rather they not."

Merlin's eyes softened and he reached out to touch Arthur's cheek. "I'd rather stand to the side and sometimes a little behind."

Memories came suddenly of Merlin in his court at Camelot, walking beside him. Standing just behind his throne. "Of course..."

"Well," Merlin said with false cheer. "Off to decide your fate."

"Would it change matters if I promised to suck you off later?" Arthur asked, keeping his voice carefully light.

"Oh not at all," Merlin promised sombrely, though his eyes crinkled slightly—the sure tell that he was teasing. He stood and ducked away, heading for a tent.

Now that Arthur was awake, he took stock of his surroundings. They were obviously in the middle of the forest. They had a few horses. Some huts. The large tent—probably a meeting place. And there were the rest of his men, cobbled together. Richard noticed him and waved. Then the rest of his men picked up on it and furtively waved at him. He nodded back once and then shook his head, smiling and giving as much of an easy shrug as he could. He was tied to a tree and daren't shout across to them, but hoped he communicated the fact that they should just rest and wait to see what happens.

Some time later, Merlin and some other ruffians emerged from the tent, separating for different directions.

Merlin headed his way. Folding himself onto the ground, he smiled and began, "I've composed a letter. We're sending it out now. For ransom."

"I won't be harmed?"

"I've given the strict order that you're to be left alone. You'll be tended by me. I knew you when we were younger, you see. When I was in one of the smaller courts in Kensington. And I know you can be particularly brutal and manipulative. So I don't want anyone else talking to you."

"Jealous, Merlin?"

Merlin grinned. "You're mine, after all."

He shook his head. "Who are you, Merlin..."

"Merlin."

"Yes. Obviously. But _who_ are you, _this_ life?"

"Ooh. Yes. Well, I'm former Lord Germaine Astonbury."

"Really?" Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "What happened?"

"My mother ran off and my father died, leaving me with an impressive amount of useless money and property. The property I've turned into an orphanage and the money I use to help some of the poor people of the countryside."

"How noble," Arthur said, though clearly, he was impressed. "I've heard of you. I never knew you. I only heard rumours of you, full of scorn and hidden admiration. More so the first."

"Mm. Unsurprising. These people don't really know." He cast a glance over his shoulder. "Well. I suppose I can move you to my cabin. Hut. Tent. Thing." He gave Arthur an arched look that sent warmth straight down to his groin.

"I would not oppose that move."

"I wouldn't think you would be. Well." He stood. "Up."

"I can't—" Arthur wriggled, finding the ropes loose. "Hm. Apparently, I can." He followed Merlin dutifully, giving his men an easy smile when they noticed his move. He waved with his now-free hand and they seemed to relax.

As soon as the make-shift door is closed, Merlin waved a hand at it and then turned on Arthur. "So... What was that about sucking me off?"

Arthur blinked and then laughed. "Pushy."

"Strip."

Then Arthur's eyes went wide as he sucked in a breath, quickly obeying.

Merlin smirked, sitting back on his cot-bed, rubbing his heel over the front of his pants.

"Shit, Merlin..." He was naked, cock half-heard. He moved towards Merlin, taking his time to undress him. Merlin let him.

"Come on now, Arthur..." He pushed gently at Arthur's shoulder.

Sinking to his knees between Merlin's thighs, he ran a hand along Merlin's cock, dipping his head in to kiss the base, enjoying Merlin's sigh. He gave in to Merlin's murmured urgings, taking in as much as he could, tracing his tongue around the head in his mouth. "Merlin," he murmured, pulling back. "No one's going to come bursting in here, are they? This would be slightly embarrassing."

"No need to worry about your honour, Arthur; the door's closed with magic. They'll hear nothing, see nothing. Now. What was it you were doing?" He smiled, taking the edge off the bite in the words.

Arthur kept his eyes on Merlin's, taking him back into his mouth. Watching. Watching the way that Merlin's eyes went wide, pupils dilated with pleasure, mouth a slack 'o.' "You like that?"

A small growl and world-tumble later, Arthur was on his back and Merlin sliding into him.

"Shit!" Arthur exclaimed, arching up at the suddenness of the intrusion. "Shit, shit, Merlin!"

"Been too long," the other said, voice raw. "Sorry. I'll—"

"Move."

They finished shortly, sleep, the next time, take more time to reacquaint one another with their bodies.

* * *

"How long's it been?" Arthur asked, roused from his nap on Merlin's cot.

"Since what?"

"Since—well. Since I got here. And since you've sent the letter."

"Almost a fortnight since you've been here and a day less than that since I sent the letter."

Arthur frowned, watching Merlin move around the small shelter purposefully. Organising. Rearranging. Whatever it was that he found fascinating at the moment. "And my father hasn't responded?"

"Surprisingly, no."

"And that worries you."

"It worries _you_, doesn't it?"

Arthur sighed. "Yes. But I'm concerned why it seems to bother you more."

"It means something isn't right," he replied tightly.

"What isn't right?"

"I don't _know_, Arthur!" He snapped, turning to pace in the small area. His blues were flashing gold every so often, hair sticking up. The tense line of his shoulders was easily discernable with no shirt on, even though his strides were controlled. "Something's wrong, and I don't know what it is."

"Can sex fix it?"

Sending him a reproving look, Merlin threw his hands up. "No it won't. But it'll help distract me."

"Sex it is," Arthur said, pushing his trousers down and flopping back on the cot.

"That shall _cer_tainly attracts my attention..."

"Fine. You don't want the gift I'm offering—" Arthur felt his limbs freeze up, flicked his eyes towards Merlin and managed to catch the flash of gold. "You, I fear, have the distinct advantage."

Merlin grinned. "You can't rescind an offer like that, you know. However, darling, you _must_ give more thought to presentation next time. You used to be quite good at that..."

Arthur laughed. "You're quite a bit pushier this time around, Merlin."

"But you like it."

"I suppose I have no argument against it," he agreed amicably. "Shall we get on with it?"

"You certainly do have a way with romance," Merlin drawled, swinging a leg over Arthur's hips. He bent down to meet the other man's lips, letting it slowly take over them.

"Well, you seem to have taken care of that for me, haven't you," Arthur murmured in between kisses, sliding his hands up Merlin's torso, tweaking a nipple through his shirt. "I would imagine we would both be more comfortable if unclothed..."

"These ridiculous ideas that you have..." Merlin rocked his hips against Arthur's, making him gasp.

"Whatever it is, _Mer_lin, you're going to have to...uhn...hurry it up," Arthur keened as Merlin's fingers teased the skin behind his balls.

"I—" His grin faded abruptly, turning into a frown so quickly that Arthur felt his heart thud.

"Merlin?"

"Get your clothes on," Merlin ordered, already off Arthur and cocking his head as if listening for something.

"What's wrong?"

"There's—oh for pity's sake," he snapped, eyes flashing, and then Arthur's clothes were on. "Intrusion. Follow me." He waved his hand at the door and then strode out it. Just as chaos erupted.

Men in armour burst into their little camp, swords and bows at the ready. Merlin's own men, caught unawares, scrambled to get their defences together, though the arrows were already flying.

"Shit!" Arthur muttered more curses. "Apparently, my father thought a rescue would be a better option."

"Well it's not," Merlin muttered, beginning to mumble some words.

"Merlin! Not here!" Arthur grabbed his arm, ducking an arrow.

"There he is!" One of the knights shouted.

"Arthur!" Merlin protested angrily. "This isn't up for discu—" His face turned white, looking down at the arrow in his chest and then up at Arthur whose face must have been just as pale. "Shit."

"Shit! Oh bloody sodding hell, Merlin!" Arthur choked out, catching him under the arms even as another arrow caught him in the gut. Arthur let out another stream of curses as a stray arrow caught him in the thigh.

Both sides were tallying losses as Arthur tried to drag Merlin somewhere more sheltered, hardly able to think about anything more than _MerlinMerlinMerlinMerlin_ who was fading in his arms. "Merlin! Do magic! Save yourself!" He ordered desperately.

The only reply was a muffled murmur, the arrow wobbling as he dragged in weary breaths.

"_Mer_lin! Save yourself right now!" He dropped Merlin as one of Merlin's men charged him. Ducking away, he managed to get the sword out of the man's hand. "I'm not _hurting_ him! I'm trying to _save_ him, you complete and utter fool!" The other man just snarled and cursed him, lunging in, a blade suddenly between Arthur's ribs before Arthur ran him through. He collapsed against the side of Merlin's little hut as the other man staggered away. Sliding down the side, he pulled Merlin into his lap. "I'm done for, you know," he rasped.

Merlin's eyes fluttered, gold stuttering in and out.

"Don't." He winced, but bent over to kiss Merlin regardless. "I wouldn't want to live without you here anyway."

"I..." Merlin coughed. "I love..you...Arthur..." Blood dribbled down his chin, death edging onto his face as his skin paled even more.

Choking back a sob, Arthur kissed him again, mindless of the blood. "I love you too." Despite how many times they had seen the other die, it never got easy. However many times they were reborn, it always took time, blessed time, for them to find one another. "Always, you know that."

"Every...every life..." Merlin sighed, lids fluttering as his lips twitched themselves into a smile. "For...for ever... You cry...for me?"

"Don't sound..." Arthur felt his own breath catch, like there wasn't enough air, the sounds around them muting. "Don't... sound so pleased..."

"I suppose...I'll...see you...'round..." he breathed, voice so faint, Arthur hardly heard it.

"Yes," he sighed back, letting his chin lean against his chest and eyes close. And then the world merely faded away.


	11. The French Connection

Neighbours again. But this life was so soon after the last, Arthur couldn't help seeing his children around town. They were in France again. The first time, Arthur found a fond smile stealing over his face as his daughter guided his grandchild around a puddle. Though at this point, his grandchild wasn't much older than himself. As soon as he found Merlin, he dragged him after their daughter, husband and children.

"Aren't they adorable?" Arthur grabbed six year old Merlin's hand. Merlin who was really Martin and Arthur who was really Artur.

Merlin smiled fondly, the old expression odd and out of place on a face so young. "Of course. They're ours."

Arthur flushed faintly. "We make pretty children, Merlin."

"I know."

"I want to talk to them."

Merlin glanced at Arthur in alarm. "We can't!"

"Why not?"

"Arthur! Because they'd probably recognise us!"

"I'm a boy this time around, Merlin."

"And so am I!"

"You're right... They'd probably recognise us by your ears alone."

"I'm not joking about this, Arthur?"

He sighed patiently. "And what are they going to do? Accuse us of being their parents despite the fact that they saw us die, buried us, and perhaps really just want to see us so maybe they see a bit more in two random children than they want to?"

"You think they miss us that much?"

Ruffling Merlin's hair, Arthur beamed "Of course. They loved us terribly."

Merlin nodded and they devised ways to subtly encounter their children and grandchildren.  
Like take walks. Meet them at the park.

"You have lovely children," Arthur said.

Gwen turned, startled, looking down with no small amount of surprise at Arthur. She smiled hesitantly. "Well thank you. You're rather lovely yourself. Who are you both?"

Arthur coloured but replied steadily, "Artur. And this is Martin."

"How lovely. Are your parents about?"

"No, mam'selle. But we're fine. They trust us."

Her eyes widened. "Really."

"Yes. Honest," Merlin added earnestly with a bright smile.

Gwen blinked and rocked back on her heels. "Gracious. You look. Just." She smiled and shook her head. "Never you mind."

Merlin pinched Arthur's elbow.

Arthur continued smiling. "Well your family is lovely. Thank you for speaking with us. Fare thee well!" He dragged Merlin off behind him, Gwen's startled face and single shout of, 'wait but—' not holding them there.

"I knew that would be a disaster," Merlin moaned as they neared home.

Arthur tutted. "It was no such thing. You see how happy she was?"

"Of course!" But Merlin's expression softened into love, pride, and affection. "She's quite happy."

"I wonder if Elyan is still in Spain."

"A wander-lust like his namesake."

Arthur snorted. "At least he doesn't get into trouble like his namesake. God, that was always awful."

"Hullo boys! Would you care for a biscuit!" the baker's wife called as they passed.

Merlin grinned and darted forward for the treat, taking one for Arthur. "Merci beaucoup, Madame Bouillard!" He handed it to Arthur and then grabbed his hand and trotted back towards home.

* * *

As the two of them grew older, Merlin frowned more and more after their children and their grandchildren.

"Merlin, _honestly_, what is the matter with you?"

"We should move somewhere else," Merlin said finally.

"Mo—What? Move, Merlin? What for?"

"The older I get, the more Gwen looks at me. When Lance and his wife stopped by that one time almost a year ago, he couldn't stop staring at me when we came by for tea."

"Yes. So."

"Arthur, don't tell me you're really that dense. I know you're not."

Sighing, Arthur's grin left his face and he dragged a hand over it. "I know. I know. I don't... Merlin, I'm so _attached_ to them. I can't..."

"Arthur, we let them go when we died. Granted, we didn't know that we'd still be around as they got older, but still. They see me every time they look at me. Which isn't surprising, seeing as I look exactly the same. And while I know it's not like they'll figure it out, it's just..." he shrugged. "I feel like it's cheating. Or teasing. It makes me uncomfortable."

He made a small noise of understanding, glancing around the sitting room before bending towards Merlin to kiss his forehead. "I know. But where—"

"India," Merlin replied with no hesitation.

"India? Whatever made you choose there?"

"It's far away, and we haven't ever been yet. I'd love to see it."

Arthur tilted his head consideringly. "Well. I suppose India it is then."

"Really?"

"What, did you think I wouldn't want to go?"

"Well. Sort of."

Rolling his eyes, he gave Merlin's hand a squeeze. "You know I'd go anywhere with you."

"It's reassuring to hear you say so." Merlin squeezed his hand back.

* * *

Breathing in the Indian air as they disembarked the ship into a bustling port, Merlin's smile was wide and eager. "Arthur, this is _brilliant_!"

His eagerness spreading to the man—young man really, they were seventeen and eighteen—beside him, Arthur laughed and nodded. "It is. I can't believe we've never come here before."

"There's lots of places we haven't gone before." He took Arthur's hand, wandering down the merchant aisles.

"Yes. We should find some place to stay."

Merlin nodded in agreement. "Yes. We'll know it when we get there."

"Channelling Morgana?"

"No. Never. Just a... a _feeling_, you know?"

With an indulgent smile, Arthur slung his arm around Merlin's shoulders as they turned a corner down another street. "Of course." Then. "Do you think we'll pick up Indian quickly?"

"I dunno. I hope so," the other replied, distracted.

"What are you looking for?"

Merlin pulled up short, Arthur moving past him awkwardly.

"Merlin!"

"Here," he breathed. "This is it!"

"What's it?" he grumbled, looking around.

"This building. We'll live here."

Arthur gave it a dubious look. "Why?"

"You'll see," Merlin said, a mischievous look in his eye. Knocking on the door, he somehow managed to convey to the owner apparent that they wanted the place. Then he was guiding Arthur up the stuffy stairs to a door.

A door.

Painted over brilliantly in reds and golds, a dragon twining around a sword.

"Merlin!"

Grinning with pride, Merlin said, "Well?"

"Well _what_? It's... I mean... God, Merlin, did you prepare this ahead of time?"

"No," he ducked his head, pushing the door open. "The rest I did, though."

Arthur gaped as Merlin pushed the door the rest of the way open, the entire room glittering with red and gold decour—the occasional blue and silver item (Merlin's 'colours') mixed in as well. The whole placed had gauzy drapes to cover the large open windows, deep-coloured wood chests and wardrobes and a large low bed filled with silk pillows and sleek sheets. All in all, the word Arthur would have to go with was 'sumptuous.'

"I take it you're impressed," Merlin drawled as he pushed past Arthur into the room, dropping his belongings.

"This is... This is _amazing_, Merlin!" Arthur spun around to see everything, looking into the nooks and corners before stopping in front of the bed. "You did all of this just now?"

"I did."

"I never cease to be amazed," he murmured, dropping his rucksack and flopping back onto the bed. "This is... Why don't we stay here forever..."

"Until we get bored of Indian cuisine and the city, at least," Merlin said wryly, dropping down onto the pillow-laden bed next to him.

"We'll go somewhere else?" Arthur said in surprise, propping himself on one elbow.

"Sure," Merlin shrugged. "Why not."

"Merlin... Is this wanderlust?"

"May as well. We should see the world, Arthur." He smiled.

Arthur smiled back. "We've got the time, haven't we..."

"To us then," Merlin said, raising a glass of not-there-before champaign. Arthur accepted it from Merlin's hand where another for himself promptly appeared.

"To us."


	12. You Make Me

**A/N:** I just wanted to say thank you to everybody who's reading this one. This story, that is. I really have received some of the sweetest, most flattering comments on this one. So thank you sincerely. I really appreciate every one of you, and thanks for the reviews! They keep me going!

* * *

It wasn't until Arthur arrived on the space platform that people began to want Merlin. More specifically, it wasn't until Arthur came up next to Merlin, kissed his cheek, and Merlin smiled like the sun appearing from behind the clouds, startling everyone with his beauty that they wanted Merlin.

And Merlin apparently found it hilarious, accepting their tokens of affection.

"They don't _really_ want me, Arthur," he said, drifting rather gracefully across the no-grav hallway.

"Yes they _do_," Arthur insisted, unsure of how to make Merlin see the truth.

"No they don't," Merlin replied calmly. "It's all you."

"Merlin! I'm not the one getting gifts!"

"Yes, Arthur," Merlin said patiently. "They want the me that is with you."

Arthur blinked. "What?" He blurted stupidly.

"Think about it. They didn't want me until you got here. They try to curry favour with me, hoping that how you make me will be mirrored by their efforts."

"Merli—"

"_Ar_thur," Merlin spoke as if to a small child. "_You_ are what makes me beautiful."

Flushing bright red as they reached staff quarters, Arthur could only gape.

"Shut your mouth," he said fondly. "You look like a fish."

Arthur promptly closed his mouth and swiped the card for their room.

They settled quickly to the floor. "Now do you see why their gifts mean nothing?" Merlin said, lacing his fingers behind Arthur's neck.

Arthur smiled finally. "So really you're just a giant tease and flirt."

Merlin grinned.

"Merlin," Arthur huffed.

"But only your cocktease," he said, sliding his body down Arthur's.

"That's for bleeding sure—o-oh!"

Merlin hummed as he palmed Arthur's cock.

"Yes please," Arthur gasped.

"I thought so."


	13. On the Topic of Age

Arthur stopped before the secondary school, biting his fist to stop from calling out right away. Leaning back against a light pole, Arthur watched the children laugh as they tumbled out of the school. Cursing his sudden lust, Arthur bit down harder on his fist.

"Merlin!" he called out as a crowd of children streamed through the gate.

One of the adorable small bundles of energy whipped his head around, looking for the source. He found Arthur and grinned, blue eyes intense, a wild shock of unruly black hair on his head. Skipping over, long limbs everywhere at once, Merlin grinned up at Arthur in the suit. "You always did look good in business clothes."

Arthur practically melted. "Dear goodness. Merlin. Look at you."

"What?" He hurried to look. "I'm not a mess, am I?"

Shuddering, Arthur had to look away.

"Arthur? Are you alright, Arthur?"

"Morgan! Morgan, are you coming?" Children's voices hollared.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not coming today! I'll see you Monday!"

Arthur snuck another look at little Merlin. Still thin as a rail, his cheekbones were hardly as pronounced, cheeks a little round still with baby fat.

"I take it you're taking me home?" Merlin said, shifting his bag from one shoulder to the other.

Arthur's eyes went wide. "God... I can't..." He shook his head.

"Are you sure you're alright? Do you want me to drive? Did you drive at all?" He looked around for an Arthur-like vehicle, but nothing presented itself.

"I didn't drive," Arthur said, not looking at Merlin. That helped. That was definitely easier. "Um. How old are you?"

"I'm thirteen, Arthur," the boy replied, voice laced with amusement.

"Ah."

"Is that the problem here?"

Arthur swallowed. "You could say that. You shouldn't..." He took a deep breath. "You shouldn't come home with me, Merlin."

"I recall saying the same thing all those lives ago, didn't I? Well. Not exactly. You forced my hand," Merlin grinned. "Early 21st century, I dare say."

"Um."

"How old are you, Arthur?"

"Twenty six."

"Yes? Well." Merlin folded his arms—so Merlin—and shrugged, looking so much like an adult. "So where do you live?"

"Nearby." Arthur stared at him, heart thrumming. "I've walked past this school for years and have never seen you, Merlin. I've searched online for you. I've even gone to an honest-to-goodness physical library to find you, Merlin."

"A physical library?" Merlin's brows went up. "I didn't know they had many of them left."

"I had to travel to Washington D.C. across the pond."

Merlin gaped. "Shut up!"

"I did," Arthur said, looking a little flushed with embarrassment. "Let's walk then." He started off and Merlin trotted—_trotted—_to keep up with him.

"Well, I'm sincerely flattered," he replied smugly. "You're not going to be as bothered by the age things as I was, are you?" Arthur looked at him sideways, all flushed and tense. Following the lines of his body, Merlin smirked. "Right then. I guess not."

Arthur almost moaned. "You have no idea, do you. God, Merlin. You're such an attractive child," he hissed as he power-walked towards his flat.

"Really?" He honestly seemed surprised.

Rolling his eyes at him, Arthur drawled, "Why else do you think I'm in such a state?"

Merlin grinned. "So where's your place?"

Arthur rumbled a string of curses under his breath. "Come on." He dragged Merlin the rest of the way to his building, flashing his security card to get them in and then entering the teleport to his floor: 44.

"Posh. As usual," Merlin commented. He dropped his jacket and schoolbag by the door, toeing off his shoes with the attitude of one who owned the place and padded around.

"Hey! Who said you could just go into my things and invade my privacy."

Merlin looked up at him through his lashes. "I'll be living with you eventually. I'll learn everything, so there's no reason not to learn this-life-you's quirks, is there?"

Arthur flushed, feeling horribly out of his element. This Merlin was clearly focused and very self-aware. Concerning Arthur. "You really should leave. Before... Before I do some—something that I shouldn't."

"Like sex?" Merlin arched a brow.

"Yes, _Mer_lin, like _sex_," he said, full of exasperation.

He sighed and nodded. "Very well."

Arthur couldn't help the disappointment that flooded through him, though his jaw dropped when he saw Merlin staring at him and carefully—_so_ carefully—undoing his uniform tie and shirt buttons. He gave a strangled noise somewhere in the back of his throat that registered in the recesses of his mind as being undignified. He couldn't really be bothered to care. "_Mer_lin...!"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"You... Sodding..."

"Get it out," he ordered.

Arthur felt his knees go weak. "I'm...being undone," he murmured faintly. Merlin's grin sent him overboard and he flopped back into a chair.

Dropping his shirt, Merlin sauntered over, smooth and sexual, sliding his hands up Arthur's chest to cup his face. "Do you want me to kiss you?" He asked, eyes hooded.

"God yes."

"You're uncharacteristically enthusiastic for this."

"You're beautiful."

This made Merlin flush. But he continued in his course, pushing the jacket off of Arthur's shoulders and then working his way down the buttons. "We could do it in the chair here."

Arthur moaned. "Do _some_thing, _Mer_lin. I'm about to come before you've hardly touched me. And that's just _embarrassing_."

Merlin smirked and then leaned in, pressing his lips to Arthur's before sliding his body up against the other man's. "You like me this way?"

"I like you _every_ way!"

"But you seem particularly..._at attention_ by younger me." Merlin cocked his head. "And you've seen me before as a child."

"But never when I was an adult!"

"True. I supposed I did enjoy it when our positions were flipped."

"Yes," Arthur panted, hips lifting against Merlin's. "Yes you rather did."

"Don't be a tit about it. You enjoyed it too."

"A lot, _yes_, now get_ on_ with it!"

Merlin laughed, lifting one leg and settling his knee next to Arthur's thigh on the chair, effectively baring himself as his eyes flashed and the rest of their clothes disappeared. "No touching," he ordered in that same low voice. "Suck."

Arthur took Merlin's fingers into his mouth immediately, swirling his tongue around them until Merlin pulled them back and reached behind to prep and stretch himself. "Shit, Merlin, shit. Hurry up.

It was strange, the oddly confident gleam in his eye, cheeks flushed now, panting a little as he rocked on his fingers. "Right then... Should be ready."

Arthur pulled him up off his feet bodily and settled him over his lap. Merlin grasped his shoulders, met his gaze and slowly began sinking down onto Arthur's leaking cock. Arthur tried, _really_ tried not to move, panting as Merlin settled, small body shaking. His groan almost set Arthur off, but he forced himself still, waiting on Merlin. "Always waiting on Merlin," he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Want me to make you wait longer?"

"D-don't you d-dare!" Arthur's eyes flew open.

Merlin grinned, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded. "Fast?"

Arthur nodded desperately.

Merlin leaned in and kissed Arthur slow and filthy, raising his hips and then slamming down.

Arthur keened.

Merlin did it again. And again until Arthur was breathless and repeating his name like a mantra.

Merlin came hard, Arthur following before he was even finished, shuddering and curling around Merlin. Pushing Arthur back against the chair, he winced as he raised himself off Arthur, kissing his lips softly. He staggered towards the bathroom, returning with a wet cloth, cleaning Arthur who sighed, boneless. "To bed, darling." Merlin tugged Arthur's wrists, pulling him up over his shoulder and to the bed.

"God, Merlin... You've really done a number on me," Arthur mumbled as he flopped back onto the bed.

"I know, I know," Merlin soothed, pulling up the covers.

"You coming to bed?"

Merlin smiled fondly down at the kitten-weak man on the bed, flicking off the lights with a flash of golden eyes. "Good night, Arthur."

* * *

Arthur woke when his alarm went off. He reached over for Merlin, frown appearing when the boy wasn't there. "Merlin?" Awake now, Arthur slipped out of bed, searching through his apartment. "Merlin? Merlin, are you there?" He frowned again when there was no answer and no sign of him. Cursing, Arthur got ready for work, passing the rest of the day in a foul mood.

He stopped by Merlin's school on the way home again, waiting for the children to come out.

"_Mer_lin," Arthur said crossly at the sight of him. "You left."

"School night," he chirped innocently.

Arthur growled.

"To yours?"

"You're..." Arthur sputtered. "You're _cheeky_!"

Merlin snorted with a roll of his eyes. "Are we going or no?"

"Morgan! Morgan, footie!"

"Not today!" he shouted back and then turning back to Arthur, a speculative gleam in his eye. "Repeat of yesterday?"

Arthur couldn't suppress the shiver that went down his spine. "What is with you this life, Merlin?" He asked darkly.

"Maybe I'm just _hungry_."

Arthur made a strangled noise under his breath, grabbing Merlin's shoulder and pushing him towards his flat. "You can't keep doing this," he muttered as he pushed Merlin into his flat. "You're... irresistible."

"Irresistible?" Merlin preened.

"Don't be flattered," Arthur snapped.

"Hard not to," Merlin drawled, lying back on Arthur's bed, undoing his shirt and sliding out of his trousers. "Come on. You want it, don't you?"

He was pretty sure he didn't whimper.

"Come get it, darling."

Arthur went and got it.

* * *

He woke again to find Merlin gone. He cursed, passed another miserable day and cursed again when he didn't see Merlin. It wasn't until Friday that he saw Merlin again.

"Arthur."

He turned to face him, just a little past the school. "Now you show?"

"Sorry. Had to catch up on schoolwork."

Arthur snorted. "I don't know why you're being like this, Merlin."

"All to get you going," Merlin said in the same flirty tones that did exactly that. "Yours?"

"No," Arthur snapped. "No. We never do the just casual sex thing. What's going on?"

Merlin just smiled, full of secrets.

"We're going to talk. And discover why you're being...like this."

Merlin rolled his eyes and cocked a skinny hip. Tossing a jacket over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Let's go."

"Merlin!" Arthur hissed. "Is it because you're young? What is this—"

"God, Arthur. Shut. Up." He growled and turned on a heel, walking away.

"Merlin, for God's sake, wait." Arthur hurried to catch up, grabbing his shoulder.

"Get off!" he snapped, eyes flashing.

"Morgan what?" Arthur asked.

"What?"

"What's your last name this time."

"Anglynde," Merlin snapped.

Arthur nodded and Merlin's expression went tight-lipped.

"Shit."

"Alright. Let's go back to mine," Arthur breezed.

"Never mind."

Arthur chewed a lip as he watched him go, frowning.

* * *

The first thing he did when he got home, after hanging up his jacket and putting his briefcase away, and charging his mobile—okay, maybe the fifth thing he did was look into 'Morgan Anglynde.' There was nothing on the internet other than schools he attended and the science competitions he'd won, a spelling bee win, and a myriad of other school victories. But then, he already knew that Merlin was brilliant. And had centuries of a head start on the subject. It was a wonder their brains didn't explode with all of the memories crammed in there. A testament to the human being.

After an hour and a half of searching, nothing had come up. Nothing that would explain his behaviours. Leaning back in his chair, Arthur massaged his temples. There had to be a reason. There were no articles that suggested he had been...been _abused_ by a stranger. Or anything. Not that Merlin would ever let that happen to himself. Unless—Arthur sat ramrod straight and then relaxed back into his chair. Merlin had magic. He'd seen it. Kind of. But he had it, and therefore, could defend himself.

Popping his knuckles, he chewed at his lip. There had to be _some_thing... Arthur looked back at his screen, leaning back to hook his heels over the edge of the desk, typing quickly on the holo-keyboard over his lap. Perhaps the school records held some vital information. Problems with other students. Not that it seemed he had problems. He shrugged off the strange feeling of feeling like a parent. Merlin seemed to get along with the other students. And apparently football, of all things, was not a strange occurrence for Merlin.

Then there it was. His blood froze and he scribbled down the address on the back of his hand before rushing out the door.

"Directions," he snapped at his watch, entering the address and _running_ towards Merlin's flat. It couldn't be too far, Arthur reasoned, seeing as they both walked. He was a bit out of practice, this life, but he grabbed the stair rail for support as he panted outside of Merlin's building. Running his hand down the columns of call-buttons, he tapped a foot, nerves all a-jitter, waiting for _some_one to let him in. Anyone.

The door finally clicked and he jabbed his finger into the floor 'port button and rushed out, pausing in front of Merlin's—the Anglynde's flat. His fist hovering by the door, he wavered, sparing a glance at his watch. 8:54. It wasn't too late to pay a visit. It wasn't even an inappropriate hour. It was just...

His heart turned over.

Knocked.

Started walking away.

Turned.

Walked back.

"Hello?" a kind-looking woman said as she opened the door.

"Erm. Hello," Arthur managed.

"Can I help you?"

"Actually, I was... um. Hoping to speak to your son?"

The woman's eyebrows shot up. "Morgan?" Then her eyes narrowed. "What business do you have with him?"

"I—erm." He cleared his throat. "I'm—forgive me. My name is Allen Prydden. I am a guidance counsellor at your son's school. Please forgive the late hour. I know this isn't exactly protocol, but I had something of extreme importance to discuss."

"A pleasure, Mr. Prydden," she said hesitantly. "Won't you please come in?"

"Um. Yes. Please. Georgiana, was it?"

"Yes. Tea?"

"No. No, thank you. I merely need to have a word... It concerns a delicate matter."

Mrs. Anglynde read between the lines and gestured down a hall. "His room is the last on the right."

"Thank you." He ducked his head and headed down the hall, rapping sharply on Merlin's door before entering.

Merlin's face screwed up into confusion at the sight of Arthur in his room, of all places, before clearing and settling into bland sullenness. "I suppose you've found out."

"Of _course_ I've found out!" Arthur hissed, throwing his hands at the ceiling. "What the _fuck_ were you _thinking_, Merlin! Weren't you _ever_ going to tell? What _is_ it with you and _secrets_!"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh shut up. My mother will hear. No, don't look like that. She already knows, of course—she's my _mother_, but I don't want her thinking that we're too friendly."

"Of course not," Arthur snapped bitterly. "Too busy worrying about your _condition_ to think about things like that, are we?"

"What do you know," Merlin hissed, face suddenly terrible and frightening for a thirteen-year old. His eyes flashed gold, the papers rustling.

"I know you're keeping things from me. Again. Always with the secrets, Merlin! Always the secrets."

He threw his palm down on the desk, getting to his feet as his eyes flashed gold again. "Where do you get off telling me about my secrets, Arthur!" He yelled, surging to his feet.

"I thought you were worried about your mother," he bit out.

"She can't hear. I've shielded the room, you idiot."

"Excellent. _More_ secrets. Do you lie to everyone?"

"We got over this_ centuries_ ago, Arthur. Stop trying to bring it back."

"Bring—bring it _back_?" Arthur gaped. "Merlin! Merlin, this is not me bringing anything _back_, this is me having issue with your keeping secrets from me _now_!"

"So I have an incurable disease, _Arthur_. You knowing fuck-all about it is hardly going to make a difference, is it."

"It _is_!"

"Exactly!" Merlin shouted. "Exactly! You'll treat me like some sort of porcelain doll, like I'm all fragile and weak. Well I'm not!"

"I know you're not!" Arthur yelled back, feeling his face heat up in anger. "You're the strongest person I know! So I don't _understand_ why the sodding hell you're _hiding_ it from me!"

"It would be better if you just didn't know." He looked down suddenly, hand gripping his desk very hard.

"Merlin..." Arthur sighed, dragging a hand over his face. "This isn't... Shit. You shouldn't _have_ to face things like this alone."

"I don't," he replied stubbornly, looking more like a child that he was supposed to be.

"Which is why you didn't tell me?" Arthur replied in a voice smaller than he would have liked.

"I have friends."

"And do they know?"

Merlin avoided his eyes, and a moment passed before he finally said, "No."

"You see. The only people that know, I'm sure are school officials, your parents, and...and your doctors!"

"That's not—"

"Don't lie to me again."

Merlin shut his mouth with a clack of teeth, glaring at him furiously. "So now what. Treat me like I'm breakable?"

"I..." He broke off. He didn't really have an answer for that. "I haven't—"

"Because you haven't_ known_."

"No thanks to you!" Arthur snapped. "I had to find out by hacking into your school's bloody system and searching your records!"

"At least it made you use that brain for something," Merlin muttered under his breath, staring a hole in the corner of his room.

"Don't," Arthur huffed dangerously. "Don't do that, Merlin."

"I'm hardly doing anything."

"You're... you're trying to push me away."

"Am not."

"You _are_!"

"I am not!" Merlin snapped. "You'd hardly leave even if I _were_!"

"I'm not going to leave you alone!"

"That's what I just _said_!"

"I know!"

"Fuck!"

"Yes please!"

They stared at one another furiously, shoulders tense and high, huffing. Then Merlin launched himself at Arthur who grabbed ahold of him tightly, falling onto the bed where they were stripped by Merlin's magic. They then spent a few minutes writhing against one another before becoming hopelessly tangled in the bedding, both coming with an anguished sort of cry, and collapsing into the mattress.

"I'm not sorry I know," Arthur said finally into the quiet.

"I still am," Merlin countered. "I could wipe it from your memory."

"You wouldn't," Arthur said confidently, petting Merlin's hair.

A moment of silence passed.

"Merlin. You wouldn't, right?"  
Merlin said nothing.

"Merlin?" Arthur said, sitting suddenly, sure his heart missed a beat.

"Shut up, Arthur."

He sighed back against the pillows.

"This is why I didn't want you knowing."

"What."

"You're going to go mental every time I don't answer. You're going to have heart attacks whenever I hurt myself," he said wearily. "It will be bloody miserable."

"Watch your language."

Merlin snorted.

"Very well, Merlin. I endeavour to not treat you like you're glass, if you endeavour to be honest and fair with me in all things."

"That's a little extreme, isn't it?" Merlin said dubiously.

"Just promise me you'll be careful and take your medications, see your doctors, whatever it is that you have to do to stay healthy."

Merlin once again rolled his eyes. "Of _course_, Sire."

"That's my boy," Arthur said smugly.

"And _that's_ not disturbing at all."

* * *

Merlin stayed relatively healthy all the way through Year 11. For his sixteenth birthday and graduation, Arthur had something planned. Picking up Merlin from his flat, he took his hand started walking.

"You know, Arthur, now that I no longer look so much like a child, it's much more obvious why you're holding my hand.

"You still only come up to my nose, Merlin. Relax," Arthur said easily, much too happy to let anything bother him today.

"Where are we going?"

"That's a surprise."

Merlin sighed. "You can't tell me."

"Merlin, what is the definition of a 'surprise.'"

"Something unexpected, causing wonder or awe."

"Exactly. I wouldn't want you to miss out on the 'awe.'"

"Of course not," he muttered wryly.

Arthur directed him down the streets to a tall building, pushing him in the door and into the 'port to Floor 18.

"What's here..." Merlin frowned.

Arthur guided him past shops and finally into an up-scale jeweller. "I wanted to get you something for your birthday."

"Oh Arthur..." Merlin sighed. But a smile tugged at his lips. "You don't have to."

"I know. But I wanted to. Want to. You're special, and I wanted to get you something. Also as a well-done for your schooling. And continued good health," Arthur added, knowing it was something they didn't really speak of.

He flushed and then sighed. "I suppose I won't be able to talk you out of something expensive and utterly ridiculous."

"But full of class and suiting you perfectly, Merlin."

"What have you found?" The question was harsh, but Merlin's grin gave away his pleasure.

"Several things, actually..." Arthur said casually, guiding him to the rather crowded counter.

"Ah, Mr. Prydden," the sales associate said smoothly. "How wonderful to see you again. And this is the recipient of your gift?"

"Yes," Arthur replied, placing a hand lightly on Merlin's shoulder. "This would be Morgan. I'd like him to take a look at the pieces that I've chosen so that he may choose his favourite."

"Of course," he replied with a polite dip of his head and hurried into the back of the store.

"Jewellery, Arthur?"

He smiled. "You'll like my choices, I think."

"Hm..."

The man returned with a small display box, setting it before them.

Merlin's mouth rounded into a soft 'o' as he dipped his head to look at them more closely. "Ar—Allen, these are beautiful!"

The associate smiled. "I'll leave you a few minutes to peruse and be back with you shortly."

"Of course," Arthur murmured, too distracted by Merlin's expression of awe.

"So. What do you think?"

"They're all..._lovely_." He picked up a ring and slipped it on his finger, turning his hand this way and that to examine it. The gold gleamed, ruby shining brightly amidst the subtle diamonds in the setting. "Your colours, of course."

Arthur smiled.

Merlin picked up the handsome chain, around which was slung a sinuous looking jewelled dragon. Setting it back, he picked up another chain—a bracelet, elegant and simple, puzzle pieces linked together, alternately silver and gold, single rubies and sapphires set into alternate pieces. "These are really lovely, Arthur."

"I'm glad you like them," Arthur replied earnestly. "Do you have a favourite?"

Merlin hummed, fingering the bracelet. "I don't know..."

"The bracelet?"

"I like it."

"We could have matching..."

"Arthur," Merlin huffed, a smile touching his lips all the same. "I—"

"EVERYONE HANDS IN THE AIR! ON YOUR KNEES!" a harsh voice shouted.

Arthur spun, pulling Merlin to his side on instinct.

"On the ground! Everyone on the ground!"

"Shit..." Arthur's face went pale. "Burglary?"

"Sir, I think it's best—" the associate began to say before he was shot.

"Shit!" Arthur dove to the floor, covering Merlin with his own body.

The guns went off into the ceiling, plaster raining down like snow.

"You can't be serious," Merlin hissed.

"Don't do anything," Arthur warned. "Those are particle pistols—"

"Stupid name."

"—and they do real damage, Merlin."

"No talking over there!" The guns turned on them.

Arthur shut his mouth.

"All your valuables, all the jewellery, and all of your money in the bag. Pass it around, no hero stunts," the apparent ring-leader ordered.

A woman near Arthur and Merlin was trying desperately trying to calm her baby while her husband gripped her shoulders.

"Shut that baby up, Ma'am," the thief warned.

"I—" She turned pale, husband edging in front of her. "I'm trying, I promise. I'm sorry, I'm trying. She's just... we've been out all day and—"

"I didn't ask for excuses," he hissed, brandishing the gun at her.

She started crying.

Arthur looked down at the top of Merlin's head, biting his lip, thoughts racing. His eyes caught the bracelet glinting in the bright lights of the shop designed to make everything glisten.

"Mate, she can't help the baby crying," Arthur heard his voice say. "She's just a child. Can't help it!"

The gun swivelled on him as he raised himself to a kneeling position, feeling very much like a prisoner facing a firing squad. He ignored Merlin's horrified expression out of the corner of his eye. "No one asked _you_. No one likes a hero either."

"Heroes get other people killed," Arthur muttered, ignoring the way Merlin's eyes bugged out in astonishment.

"You looking to die, pretty boy?"

"Not particularly," Arthur said firmly, relaxing a bit now that the couple and their child was out of harm's way. Stalling he could do. He'd had enough practice with politicians, dangerous people, and goodness knows how many other stubborn people, Merlin included, that he could stall until the authorities came to deal with the situation. Merlin looked ready to jump in with magic, but he was wincing suddenly, gripping his head. He frowned. Pain? His heart clutched as he thought of the illness. Suddenly this plan was going a different direction. He smiled up at the people pointing their guns at him.

"Then why are you flapping your mouth?"

Arthur shrugged.

"I think he's looking to die," another man said, edging closer. "I really feel like shooting him."

"No, no. I'm not looking for death," Arthur said pleasantly, smiling.

"Maybe he's just mental..."

"_Ar_thur!" Merlin hissed.

"Who's that then?" The man jerked a head at Merlin who was curled up on the floor next to Arthur, reaching out to grip Arthur's calf painfully.

"No one," Arthur said firmly, edging further in front of Merlin. It was that moment that the baby chose to let out an unholy wail. The guns swerved and Arthur surged to his feet, adrenaline driving him as he got between them and the child, the guns went off and Arthur felt one—two hits, grunting as he fell to the floor. Merlin screamed and the thieves went down as the coppers swarmed into the shop.

"Arthur, you complete and _utter_ bastard!" Merlin sobbed, pulling him into his lap.

"Language, Merlin..." Arthur gasped.

"Sorry, so sorry, I'm sorry!"

"You said you didn't...want to be dying in my arms."

"No, you _fool_!" Merlin snapped. "Now you're dying in _my_ arms! And I didn't want that either!"

Arthur huffed a laugh and then grunted in pain as he pulled himself into a sitting position against one of the jewellery cases.

"Arthur! Stop moving!" Merlin's face turned as white as Arthur's with the effort.

"Come here," he said gruffly, tugging Merlin's wrist as he fell forward against his chest. He tugged him further into his lap.

"Arthur!"

"There."

"What are you—"

"Now I'm dying with you in my arms."

"As if that—Arthur-you blind _fool_! That isn't—" He struggled carefully, but Arthur's grip, even weakened was too much for newly sixteen-year old Merlin's strength. "That doesn't _fucking_ make it better!"

"It does...for me..." Arthur said casually.

"We both know I'll go not long after you anyway," Merlin grumbled bitterly.

"But you won't be dying in my arms," Arthur murmured.

"Oh Arthur..." Merlin's voice broke as the reality hit. "You... You did that... on purpose?" His eyes burned with tears again.

"Of course no—b"

"Don't bleeding _lie_ to me!" Merlin hissed tightly, pinching his arm. Neither of them noticed the ambulance being called or the cops cuffing the thieves.

"You get what.. you want...right...?"

"Fucking..." Merlin couldn't continue, burying his face in Arthur's neck as he bawled, oblivious to the approaching sound of sirens.

"Shh..." Arthur soothed weakly.

"You—hic—idiot," Merlin finally managed. "I never... I never wanted..._this_!" He muttered he foreign words of magic, looking Arthur over.

"Who...would.. Lungs...filling, ripped...viscera..."

"Shut _up_! I'll _still_ probably die in your arms anyway, only you'll be _dead_!" he sobbed harder—the spells weren't working. "And that just makes it creepy and leaves me without you as I die!"

"Fickle, fickle," Arthur chided, though his eyes were losing focus and he was feeling rather light-headed. Only Merlin tethered him to the ground. "So sor—sorry, Mer..lin...to do...do this..."

"H-hush!" Merlin screeched in panic. "Don't apologise, Arthur; I _love_ you!" Gripping his bloodied shirt hard, Merlin winced at the pain in his head, tucking it beneath Arthur's chin. "Arthur? Arthur... _Ar_thur!" He groaned at the spiking headache, sobbing all the harder into Arthur's chest as he felt his heart stutter weakly and then not beat again. "A-arth—" Gasping aloud, he could only hold tight as the pain lanced through his body, leaving him feeling numb. God, he was dying too... He settled against Arthur, glad the next wave was swift and knocked him out, murmuring Arthur's name as he passed.


	14. Daddy Dearest

_A/N: Not my best, but it's going to have to just stay... :(_

* * *

Merlin fell back in his bed, pulling Arthur down with him. "I really love these teenage hormones," he panted, licking into Arthur's mouth.

Humming in agreement, Arthur ground down hard.

"Just... Just a thought...you know," Merlin breathed between kisses, "it might not be a great idea...here...in my house..."

"Why's that, _Mer_lin?" Arthur slid his hands up Merlin's chest.

"I didn't...tell you?" Merlin rubbed up against him.

Arthur stopped, pulling back. "Tell me _what_, Merlin?"

"_Merlin!_ I'm home!"

"_Mer_lin...?" Arthur said, brow furrowing in warning.

"Shit shit shit!" Merlin scrambled for his clothes, hissing at Arthur to do the same.

"Merlin!"

"You have to hide, Arthur. You have to—"

"Mer—"

Everyone froze as the door to Merlin's room opened.

"Merlin!" Arthur barked, staring in shock at the older man in the doorway.

"Da!" Merlin paled.

"Your _father_?"

"Merlin! What's going on here?" Will yelled.

"Um..."

"Speak up!"

"Da, this is...Adam. My...um...boyfriend."

Will cast a hard look at Arthur. "Adam is it? Adam who?"

Giving what he hoped was his most charming smile to Will, despite the fact that it had never worked on him, Arthur extended a hand. "Adam Pennbrust. A pleasure."

The hard look turned to a sneer. "Pennbrust, is it? I know your father."

"You do?" Arthur tried to appear interested and polite.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man. I don't want you around my Merlin."

"Da—"

"Not now, Merlin."

Merlin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Da, Ar—Adam's nothing like his father. He's kind. He's—"

"I don't want to hear it. Out of my house now son, if you please," Will pointed towards the door.

Flushing, Arthur kept his face carefully neutral and gathered his clothes, slipping into his trousers and pulling his shirt on.

Merlin didn't bother telling him it was inside-out.

"Later, Merlin."

Giving him a tight smile and a nod, he waved. "Later, Adam."

* * *

Arthur dropped into the seat next to Merlin at school. "So is that why you've never had me over to yours?"

"Yeah," Merlin returned glumly.

"Well, now I know why your name is Merlin."

"Ha, bloody ha."

Arthur laughed. "Relax, Merlin. It's just Will."

"Yeah, but Will is my _da_. It's different."

Pretending he cared, Arthur leaned over and patted his thigh. "Don't worry. He'll get used to it."

* * *

"He's not used to it," Merlin said two months later as he panted, having run all the way from his house to Arthur's.

"I can't believe he...followed us for seven blocks!" Arthur panted.

"I can't believe he was able to run that far at all," Merlin retorted.

Arthur laughed. "We could really have fun with this, you know..."

Squinting up at Arthur after he flopped onto Arthur's sitting room floor, he frowned. "Have _fun_? How so? What are you thinking, Arthur?"

"Well, I'm thinking it's Will. He's _never_ liked me."

"You were a prat."

"Hey!"

Merlin shrugged. "It's only the truth."

"And I wonder why I stick with you sometimes..."

"Because you love me," Merlin grinned.

Arthur huffed, holding out a hand to Merlin. "Come on. Get up, laz-about. I was thinking up some fun ideas to drive Will mental."

"Is that what you meant?" Merlin took the hand and crawled up Arthur's body.

"Yes. Yes, Merlin. That is _exactly_ what I mean," Arthur said with a grin.

* * *

Over the next three weeks, Merlin had never laughed so much at Will's constipated, enraged, astonished, stunned, and disgusted face. He felt a little badly for his old mate, but ultimately, he felt it more than made up for the pranks that he'd played on Merlin when they were young.

They purposely snogged where Will would catch them. They waited in the kitchen until Will got home and then Arthur moaned loudly, shouting as if in release.

"MERLIN!"

They cackled and ducked out the back door.

They got themselves caught in doorways, outside the front door, in the doorway to Will's room.

"MERLIN!" Will grabbed Merlin by the scruff of his collar and yanked him off of Arthur. "That is _enough_! Adam Pennbrust, get _out_ of my house!"

Merlin shook with laughter. "Wi—Da, really. Get off."

"Merlin, this has gone _far_ enough! I don't want to see you hanging around with him any longer!" Will shook his son and pushed Arthur away.

"Hang on now, mate! You're going to injure him!" Arthur protested.

"Merlin is _my _son. Get your grabby hands off my son. Keep your influence away. I've had enough."

"Da...There's no... It was _my_ influence. I told you before I'm gay, Da," Merlin drawled.

Will made a comically shocked expression, reeling back. "_Mer_lin..."

"Oh come off it," Merlin grumbled, giving Will a swift elbow in the ribs.

Will grunted. "That's no way to speak to me! I'm trying to protect you from...from all of this! From this..._boy_."

"You always were protective," Arthur said, leaning back against the wall in the hallway.

"You shut up!" Will hissed.

"This is all rather ridiculous," Arthur admitted. "Can you make him remember or anything Merlin?"

I doubt it," Merlin muttered.

"What are you talking about?" Will asked, confusion reigning supreme on his face.

"Nothing, Da! Just..." He twisted out of Will's grasp and skipped over to Arthur, kissing him on the lips. "I was the bad influence!" He winked and then laughed as Will's face blazed red. He and Arthur ran out of the house, laughing.


	15. The Yawning Chasm

And sometimes this happened.

"Arthur! Lookit this! I was gone for a weekend and our flat looks like a tornado hit it!"

Arthur cracked an eye, not even mustering the energy for a glance around the room. "Don't chastise me like a child, Merlin."

"Well, you're behaving like one!" He replied hotly, tired and wanting to rest after the business trip.

"It's no business of yours how I behave or don't behave," he said coldly, tucking his arms back beneath his head and shutting his eyes.

"Are you mad? This is my _flat_, Arthur!"

"And you invited me to live here."

"On the assumption that you'd pull your own weight, lazy arse!" Merlin retorted.

"It's not like you can't just—" he waggled his fingers in Merlin's direction.

"My magic, Arthur, is not for cleaning up your messes!"

"Now you're sounding like my father!"

"Your father has magic now?"

"Don't be a fool, Merlin. You know what I mean."

"Do I, Arthur? Because I thought I got you out of a bad situation, rescui—"

"You did _not_ rescue me."

"Getting you out of a bad situation with your father. You could at least keep things clean as a show of gratitude!"

"So now I have to pay you back?"

"It's not that much to ask! You're not paying rent and you're not paying for anything else!"

Arthur turned back over on the couch to crack a disdainful eye at him. "Not like you can't afford it—hot shot lawyer Martin Aberforthy!"

"Don't," Merlin said, voice low. "I don't want to keep doing this. But Arthur you have to meet me half way. You can't just get angry at me and snipe away—"

"And you can? Mature and responsible Merlin, so much _better_ off than poor Arthur."

"I never once cared about money," he bit out. "You know that."

Arthur snorted and turned his back to Merlin again. "Whatever."

"Don't dismiss me, Arthur! I'm just trying to help!"

"And, over the years, we've seen how well that's gone, haven't we?"

Growling as the magic bubbled up, Merlin's eyes flashed gold as he ripped Arthur up off the couch like a bandaid and pinned him across the room against a wall. He stalked towards him, fury etched all over his face. "And you always take me too lightly, Arthur Pendragon."

"And that's really the crux of it, isn't it?" Arthur said tightly, chin jutting forward defiantly, though Merlin thought he saw fear skitter across his features briefly. "Lookit me, I'm Merlin! All-powerful wizard, everything bends to my will! I can do anything! I can make everything suit my needs. Poor Arthur, he's just a normal person. All he has is his _FUCKING_ destiny. And look at what that got him! A shit of a life! That's what, Merlin!"

Merlin flinched and let Arthur drift to the floor. "I've only ever tried to help you."

"Well maybe I'm tired of your brand of 'help,' Merlin." Arthur fixed his jumper and then stomped over to the door, stuffing his feet into his trainers.

"What are you doing?" Merlin asked, dread surging up in his heart.

"Leaving."

"What?" He said dumbly.

"Leaving! I don't want to be here anymore." Arthur gave him one last glare and then slammed the door bwhind him.

"_FINE_! Leave! Get out of here like the coward you are!" Merlin yelled at the door to hide his hurt. He huffed and then ran his fingers through his hair. Arthur would be back later.

* * *

Except he wasn't. Merlin worried his lip, paced, went to work, made calls. Nothing. Arthur vanished. He could feel him. He was still out there in the world. He went to work as usual on Monday. Handled his cases through Friday. Waited desperately through the weekend, alternating between getting sloshed and making frantic phone calls to any and all of Arthur's known associates, including his dead-beat father. Who hadn't seen him. But was missing large amounts of cash he'd had stashed, and if Arthur—Albert—ever showed his face again, he was going to beat it. Merlin hung up the phone.

* * *

Eventually, Merlin figured Arthur wasn't coming back. This life. It had been well over a month, he mused miserably, his arm hanging off the couch. Probably almost two. His co-workers had noticed his slagging attention and motivation. His boss asked him if he'd like a holiday. On Monday he would tell him yes. And then go off in search of Arthur.

* * *

Packing the small bag of things he might need, Merlin set off across England to find Arthur.

* * *

At the end of his journey, the small dumpy flat that he found was hastily emptied save for a piece of paper tacked to the wall opposite the door.

So that anyone who came in would see it.

Merlin crossed the small room.

"Don't look for me."

It was Arthur's handwriting.

Crumpling the note, Merlin turned on his heel and returned to his life. Defending people in the face of the law, succeeding on his own merit.

If Arthur didn't want him this life, well,... Then Merlin didn't need him either.

* * *

In the end, he felt Arthur slip away. It woke him while he was in bed before his own heart galloped into over time and he gasped, not having time to yell at the phone to dial '999.' There would be no point anyway. One didn't survive long without the other. "Until...next...time...Arthur..." he croaks as the numbness flares down the right side of his body and he blacks out.


	16. Twisted

**A/N**: Just wanted to let you guys know, _this_ is the (aforementioned) kinky chapter. In case you haven't figured that out. I figured I might do well to slap a few warnings on it, namely: restraint, blind-folding, rather explicit sex, toys, and I think that's it. It's all consensual though.

* * *

When Arthur got home from work, Merlin was sitting at the kitchen table, bare feet propped up. He spared a lazy glance at Arthur before returning his attention to his long fingers, the nails of which were currently being painted a deep deep red.

Arthur swallowed heavily, his breath suddenly short, face heated.

When Merlin painted his nails, bad things happened.

"How was work?"

"F-fine," Arthur stuttered, keeping his suit jacket on, hating the way the psychological response seemed drilled into him. "How's your writing coming?"

"I need inspiration."

Arthur flinched.

"Go to the bedroom."

Arthur moved woodenly in that direction.

"And Arthur?"

He paused at the mouth of the hallway, turning back to see Merlin's licentious grin as he gazed hotly at him from beneath his fringe and lashes. "Y-yes."

"Don't hide in the bathroom when you're finished cleaning yourself."

Arthur forced himself to nod and shuddered, half with dread, half with the anticipation of pleasure. He met Merlin's eyes and said, proud when his voice didn't waver, prouder when it sounded almost proud, "Of course not, _Mer_lin."

A smile, a _real_ smile, spread across Merlin's lips. "Hurry along now."

Arthur was sure that Merlin planned it. He was nothing if not meticulous this life. He was just exiting the shower, a towel slung around his waist when Merlin grabbed his wrists just as he opened the door. Turning him, Arthur was flung on the bed while Merlin crawled up over him like some lewd incoming tide. Arthur gasped.

Merlin's eyes flashed gold as Arthur found his arms being drawn up to the headboard, tethered there with soft cords.

"M-merlin...!"

Merlin's hand slide up his thighs, tugging the towel away, leaving everything revealed—including how much Arthur really did like this.

"I've been waiting all day for you, Arthur," Merlin purred, innocent face an absolute dichotomy to his actions setting Arthur's blood on fire.

"I'm sure you have. Did you get _any_ writing done?"

"Nothing I liked?" Merlin replied casually, summoning one of the neckscarves that were back in fashion with this life.

Arthur gulped.

"In fact... I felt like I was writing quite blind." He smiled then and tied the thing over Arthur's eyes. "Couldn't see a thing," he whispered, breath hot against Arthur's ear.

He shivered.

"They say the deprivation of one sense heightens the others, you know."

Arthur did know, though it didn't stop the surprised moan as nails raked over his chest bluntly. "What is it...this time?"

Merlin settled himself over Arthur's hips, gyrating slowly, oh so slow, and just a little too far to be anything more than teasing. "What? My writing?"

"Whatever..." Arthur moaned, unable to remember the point of that question.

"The story is about two men who live together. One of them is in terribly unrequited love for the other who is rather stuck up and doesn't have an interest in anyone really." The words are casual, proving a difficult counterpoint to the fingers that dig into his hips and circle his nipples, tugging, caressing, stretching up to his neck, cupping his face before lips finally soothed the already desperate noises to which Arthur was reduced.

"Arthur," Merlin mock whined. "You're not even listening."

"Listening! Definitely listening!" But he wasn't. Because Merlin's fingers were brushing, feather light over the insides of his thighs making him squirm while Merlin's tongue returned to thrusting lewdly into his mouth.

"Don't lie to me, Arthur," Merlin ordered, the weight lifting off of his hips.

Arms curled under his hips, lifting them until they were settled on Merlin's lap. Fingers skirted his cock, sliding backwards, further, Arthur was gasping and Merlin hadn't even touched him _there_...

"So eager," Merlin murmured.

A tongue flicked against the head of his prick and Arthur keened. Stretching his hips upwards, he waited, breath trapped in his lungs.

Merlin laughed suddenly. "I love seeing you like this, Arthur. It always gives me so many ideas..."

"Oh God, Merlin...! No! Don't..." Weight shifted off the bed and then blessedly returned. Arthur heard something snap, a thrill running through him as he realised it was lube. He panted as fingers sank into him, slowly, rotating and stretching. His muscles sagged as that presence disappeared, his cock straining when he thought of Merlin's painted nails disappearing into his arse. The tension swept through him again when something—not Merlin's fingers _or_ his cock—poked into him. "M-_mer_lin!" he gasped.

"Don't worry, lover. Just a little something to keep you ready until I'm ready for you," Merlin crooned. "Oh. Wait." Arthur heard the chuckle. "Maybe I should..."

Arthur jerked as whatever was inserted into his arse began to _vibrate_. He couldn't help the strangled noises that came out of his mouth.

"Be back in a tic." Merlin's weight vanished from the bed. Footsteps padded down the hall.

Arthur gaped, though he knew Merlin was no longer there to see him. He panted, his body screwing up with the tension, buzzing through him, squirming and whining on the bed. He pulled at his wrists to try and get some release. He writhed, unable to flip over and seek release through pressure. Mind numb and singly focused, Arthur didn't know how much time passed when he recognised Merlin's footsteps coming closer. He'd been shouting, he knew, but the delirium was passing in the promise of Merlin's return.

He heard the sharp intake of breath from his partner, and begged.

"Arthur," the other sighed, weight back on the bed. "You're so lovely. So infinitely lovely. I'm nearly finished now, you know."

"So am I!" he babbled. "I need...oh God, Merlin I just...Please, please touch me. Anywhere, just ..." he sobbed for release.

"I suppose I've been unnecessarily cruel.." he murmured, breath hot on Arthur's ear.

He keened. Fingers dragged down his chest and he almost came but for Merlin's crisp order of 'not yet.' "Merlin! Merlin, I'm going to burst!"

"I know," Merlin nuzzled his neck, pulling the buzzing item from him and sliding his own length in.

Arthur sighed, pushing back against him, letting Merlin set the punishing pace, groaning as he whispered naughty things into Arthur's ear. Arthur came quickly as Merlin pounded into his prostrate, screaming and clenching hard around Merlin. Who followed promptly with a sigh, lying down on Arthur's chest as the restraints slithered away.

"Good," Merlin mumbled.

"God, amazing," Arthur rasped, his body so limp he can barely bring an arm down to sling across Merlin's back, shifting as he realised they were still joined.

"Good." He felt Merlin's smile against his neck.

"Was it really necessary to make me wait that long?"

"I had _really_ good ideas."

"I hate you."

"It was worth it," he replied confidently. "Don't lie."

Arthur grunted, but his heart wasn't in it. He was in no position for complaints (rather literally) considering he'd just had the most amazing orgasm of this life. Possibly some of the ones before it. He smiled. Then frowned. "Merlin? Hey Merlin?"

Merlin just sighed, a telltale sign of drifting off to sleep.

"Merlin, can you get rid of the blindfold? Merlin, can you—" Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes behind the neckscarf, arms too weak to do anything about it himself. "Thank you. Merlin." But then he yawned and slipped off into sleep himself, warm and content. This was a good life.


	17. Reconciliation

Staring up at the giant advertisement blinking outside his apartment, Arthur scowled. It wasn't enough that Merlin had decided to plaster himself across the universe—he now had to take up location outside of his flat window as well. Hissing against the cold, Arthur stomped into the 'port and let it transfer him to his rooms. Carefully Merlin-free.

The last life he'd spent religiously avoiding Merlin. After their argument the life before _that_, he'd decided that he wanted to make something of himself and rely on his own talents and merit. He'd had enough of Merlin helping him to success. Unfortunately, that meant that he'd been always moving and never stable. He ran to space even. So he had been poor. Again. Now, after six subsequent lives of poverty, he was settling into a routine. A routine job. A routine social life. A routine spending limit. A routine washing pattern. Routine. It was the same thing over and over again, dull, but safe.

Then Merlin had burst onto the scene, and he was everything. Merlin sang. Merlin danced. Merlin acted. Merlin gave advice. Merlin designed clothes. He scowled out his window before yanking the drapes shut.

It didn't help that every time he heard a song on the radio, it was usually one of Merlin's. It was more expansively unhelpful that all of Merlin's songs were about them. In some capacity. The latest was his apology to Arthur. Covert and comprehensible to his mind only. But still.

It also grated his nerves to see Merlin's emblem blazoned across everything as well—attached to the digital copies of the music, across the fronts of the shirts under his label, embedded somewhere in his movies... A merlin perched atop an irritatingly familiar outline of a sword.

And of course, since Merlin is Merlin, everyone bloody loved him.

Arthur swore as he stubbed his toe on the bookshelf he _always_ stubbed his toe on because it didn't fight right against the wall. Bugger on Merlin.

Just as he settled on the sofa, the phone rang. Arthur groaned. "Answer call."

"Arthur? It's Laura. Some of the girls and I were going out tonight. We were wondering if you wanted to come?"

Refraining from groaning again, he put on his best apologetic voice, surprised when it wasn't even too forced. "Sorry. I've literally just gotten home from work and I'm wrecked. Can I take a rain cheque?"

"Oh sure," Laura agreed. "That's fine."

"Thanks. Have fun."

"Bye." The line went dead and Arthur muttered 'phone off' before flopping onto the couch and sighing. Laura fancied him. But she also couldn't help quoting back Merlin's lines to him about a 'golden haired prince.' Thus, to Arthur, she was insufferable. He was just drifting off into a nap when his phone rang again.

"Answer call," he mumbled. It rang again, forcing him to clear his throat and call again, "Answer call."

"Arthur?"

He sat bolt upright, holding his breath.

"Arthur? I know you're there. Otherwise you wouldn't have answered..."

Arthur refused to give him anything.

"Arthur,..." Merlin's voice almost whines. "I..." There's some sort of groan and then Merlin snapped, "Fine! Be that way! But just know that you're being bloody selfish and—and—_Arthur_! You're being ridiculous! It's been _two_ life times by now and—"

"_Mer_lin! How do you know that I was alone, you idiot!" Arthur couldn't help but shout. "I could have had people over! Do you even _think_ before you talk?"

"Arthur..." The word sounds like more of a gust of air expelled in relief than a name.

"You idiot..." he grumbled, collapsing back into the sofa cushions. He was really just too tired to be angry.

"Can I... Can I come over?"

"If you come over we're going to have angry sex," Arthur muttered.

"Angry sex sounds good!" Merlin chirped too eagerly.

Slapping a hand to his face, Arthur shook his head. "I know you can't see me, Merlin, but I am shaking my head at you. How did you even get my number anyway?"

"I'm famous, Arthur. I can get anything I want. I imagine this was rather how it was when you were a prince. People jumping to your bidding? You know, I sometimes ask for just purple candies in my changing rooms just because I can? And to see if they'll do it? And they do. It's astounding."

"Merlin. You—gaah. I can't even..."

"Can I come over?"

"_No_! That—Merlin, leave me alone. Phone off." The line went dead and Arthur thunked the heel of his hands into his head in time with his chant of 'stupid, stupid, stupid.'

"I agree."

The yell he let out was definitely _not_ womanly, high-pitched, undignified, _or_ terrified. Nor did he fall off the couch, whacking his elbow on the table making him moan as his funny bone sent shivers up his arm.

Merlin only laughed. "Sorry."

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here!"

"It wasn't very nice to hang up on me, you know. After all, I _am_ Merlin."

"I don't care who the bloody buggering hell _who_ you are, _Mer_lin, we are _not_ having angry sex!"

Merlin actually had the gall to pout.

"Oh for sodding—Get. Out."

"Honestly, Arthur. I think enough is enough. I'm sorry if it makes you feel better."

"I don't _want_ your apology, Merlin, to make me feel better," Arthur grit out.

"Well I'm not going to apologise for finding success!" Merlin exclaimed, eyebrows climbing his forehead. "You think I should?"

"I—_no_! Yes! _Dammit_, Merlin!"

Merlin looked distinctly unimpressed. "You'll have to do better than that."

"I..." And that was when he broke. Everything that he had been angry about was so stupid. There was no way he could say it aloud. None.

"You?" Merlin prompted.

His throat closed up. "I..."

"Say it, Arthur," Merlin said flatly, folding his arms across his chest.

Anger flared up. "Merlin you can't just come _barging _into my flat, _insisting_ on an apology! It doesn't _work_ that way!"

"Yes," Merlin retorted, rolling his eyes. "And if I waited for you to come to _me_ with an apology, then I would have to wait another _ten_ lives, and my prick would have fallen off from disuse. I would simply be _born_ without one because there would be no need for it."

That shocked him to silence.

"_Yes_, Arthur. Without you, I have no sex."

He swallowed. Angry sex was starting to sound _really_ good. And if his netherbits had anything to say about that, they would certainly have agreed. "I... I'm proud and s-stupid," he muttered, dropping his eyes. "It was stupid, and I'm s-s..." A deep breath. "It was selfish and unbecoming. I'm sorry." Before he'd even finished, Merlin was right in front of him, gripping Arthur's wrists lightly with his long fingers.

"I love you, Arthur. I'm tired of living—_existing_ on my own when I know you're out there. I can _feel_ you. I'm sorry we didn't see eye-to-eye. I'm sorry I didn't try to understand your point of view."

"I'm sorry I didn't yours either," Arthur hurried in. Once the words were said, it was easier to say them again. "I'm sorry I behaving like a sullen child."

"I'm sorry we wasted time."

"Time is something of which we have a plethora," Arthur said wryly, mindful of the slow circles, Merlin's thumbs were making on the inside of his wrists. "Do you forgive me."

"I forgive you. Forgive me?"

"You've done nothing wrong," Arthur said quietly, leaning towards Merlin like gravity were making him. That earned him a brilliant smile and a quick flash of gold before they were naked and Arthur was cradled possessively in Merlin's arms. "What happened to angry sex?"

"I think I like tease-Arthur-until-he-bursts sex more," Merlin said with a coy grin, his hands sliding down Arthur's back.

"I think I could accommodate that," he murmured breathlessly.

"Oh could you?"

"As long as you're quick about it," Arthur replied, with a meaningful glance down at his prick which _certainly_ had lots of upstanding thoughts about that.

"Now now. That's not the point of things," Merlin breathed.

"Merlin." Arthur stepped back, a grin threatening to conquer his face. "I love you, but _do_ get on with it."


	18. And At Last, All Else Seems Petty

A/N: And here brings the end of _Life and Again_. I've really enjoyed writing this series. And I'm so grateful to all of you who left me reviews. That's seriously why I write this drivel. Not gonna lie though, I'm pretty proud of this segment structurally and linguistically. (Not to mention, the Old English bit in here? Yeah, probably butchered it, but spent a good half hour researching... lol.)

Anyway. Enjoy, and thanks for sticking with me. ~Shin

* * *

Then there are lives like this.

"Arthur! You can't just... just _do _that!" Merlin throws her hands up in the air, screaming. They've already had this fight. Many times.

"Well, I'm _sorry_, _Mer_lin!" Arthur shouts, voice full of thunder and sarcasm.

"No you're _not_!" Merlin shrieks, reaching for the nearest object—a china plate—and chucking it at Arthur.

"Merlin!" Arthur gapes, pressing her hair to her head as she ducks to the side.

Merlin can't find it within herself to look guilty.

Arthur's face tightens. "Ass."

"You take advantage of me, Arthur," Merlin says, voice low and angry.

"And you don't me, of course," Arthur scoffs, voice fairly dripping with scorn.

"Gods! Arthur!" She chucks a mug for good measure. "I _hate _you!" She whirls and stalks out, tossing another plate as a parting gift.

"Yeah? Yeah well I hate you too!" Arthur's voice is shrill and breaking behind her.

* * *

It's dark in their home, Arthur sulking in her rooms, Merlin curled into herself in the corner of the downstairs coat closet, crying until the tears can't come anymore. She cries until there's nothing left but shaking shoulders and soft, wrung noises.

She fixed the broken chine from her closet hiding place, hugging her knees, dragging the backs of her hands over her tear-stained cheeks.

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice calls from far away—probably the top of the stairs. "Merlin..." She calls again, pulling the closet door open.

Merlin looks up, the utter wrecked expression on her face making her tears start again.

Arthur stands there awkwardly, one hand clenched by her side. Clenching. Unclenching.

Merlin's face screws up and she bawls, "Arthur, why does it have to be this way?"

Arthur looks away, voice thick. "It doesn't."

"But it_ is_!"

"Oh, Merlin..." Arthur sinks to her knees and crawls into the closet, drawing Merlin into her arms.

Merlin cries.

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispers truthfully, quietly, after her shirt is soaked through with tears.

"I'm... I'm _so_ sorry! I really am!" Merlin blubbers.

Arthur pulls back and kisses her lips. "I love you. We don't have to move."

"But your promotion..."

"You're more important," Arthur whispers quietly.

Merlin takes a deep shuddery breath. "Arthur. Arthur, tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"I need to show you something."

"Okay. Okay," Arthur murmurs soothingly.

"I should have shown you years ago. Lifetimes.."

Arthur gives her an alarmed look, but Merlin gives her back a soft enticing smile.

"It's nothing bad. You'll like it."

* * *

They retreat upstairs to their bedroom, have a long slow session of make-up sex, and then fall asleep.

In the morning, Merlin wakes first, showers, and starts breakfast while Arthur showers and dresses.

They both look exponentially better after sex, shower, food, and tea, so Merlin grabs the car keys and heads for the door.

"Driving?" Arthur archs an eyebrow. "That's so old-fashioned."

Merlin grins. "I'm feeling nostalgic."

"'Port not good enough today?"

Merlin shakes her head. "Not today. I want to wait to get there." She leads Arthur up to the garage, and slides into the driver's seat, waiting until Arthur is seated and buckled before starting the car."

"Ready, Merlin," she says softly. Even though she didn't need to.

The steering stick extends into reach and Merlin guides them up into the air, soaring above the buildings. There's hardly any traffic anymore since the wide-spread installation of the teleport system, but Merlin takes it slow anyway, swooping until walk-bridges and arching between buildings.

Every once in a while, Merlin looks over at Arthur, blonde hair shining golden in the gloaming rise of the son, hanging loose and wavy past her shoulders. The leather—real leather, expensive—trousers hug her legs, red top hugging her curves and stopping halfway down her torso to show off taut abs. She's gorgeous. Just as always. Her strong arms fold loosely into her lap, fingers tapping—the only sign she's a little impatient.

"You won't tell me where we're going?"

Merlin shakes her head. "I can't."

"What does _that_ mean, Merlin?"

"Don't," she pleads. "Please don't be cross. Let's not start."

Arthur gives a sharp nod before returning her gaze out the window.

The city eases by until they're out in Old London Proper. Arthur sits up and pays attention.

Merlin steers them through a seedy bit of town and then soars upwards to park atop Old London National Bank. Stops the car.

"Here?"

Merlin nods and gets out, locking the doors once Arthur's done the same. "Here." They step into a 'port, pressing a floor number, getting out on 16.

"Hello," says the receptionist as they enter.

"Hello," Merlin returns. "We're here to see a safety-deposit box."

"And your names?" She swivels a screen in their idrection.

"Mari Emerson and Arlynn Pedden," she says as she writes the same. "Shit. What's the date?"

"2 September. 2942," Arthur murmurs.

"Right." She turns to the receptionist. "That's not the name the box will be under though. It'll be under Merlin Emrys Ambrose." She shifts a look at Arthur, who merely frowns with curiosity.

"It..." the receptionist frowned, typing quickly. "Oh! It's been a while since anyone's come."

Merlin nods, knowing the curiosity must be killing his other half.

"Okay, Ms. Emerson. Special instructions prompt for a password, allowing for one guest only, someone who identifies as 'Arthur.'"

"That would be me." Arthur steps forward.

"And Arthur's last name?"

"Pendragon," she says without hesitation.

The woman enters some information and then a password screen pops up in front of Merlin. She looks at Arthur, smiles, and then slowly types the password, Arthur's eyes going wide.

_Mryddin __freogan A__r_**ð**_ur._

"Really, Mari?" she says, though her voice catches.

Merlin just smiles.

"Arthur loves Merlin too, you know," she mumbles, hardly over the level of hearing. Merlin knows anyway.

"Okay," the receptionist chirps. "Parker, when he gets here, will lead you down to the boxes. Thank you for visiting!"

Merlin nodes and takes Arthur's hand as they step off to the side. They follow Parker, a bland looking man in a suit, down four flights of old-fashioned stairs and then down a hallway to a barred wall. Parker flashes his keycard, scans his hand and retinas before the three of them pass through.

"What is this, Merlin," Arthur whispers.

Merlin shakes her head, long hair tickling the back of her arms and lower back where her shirt has ridden up.

"Ladies, your box is A3. Here are your keys." He handed them a swipe card and two metal keys. "Please ring the buzzer when you've finished."

"Thank you, Parker," Merlin murmurs attractively. "We'll be a while." Merlin turns and leads Arthur down the rows of locker-like safety-deposit boxes. At the end of the rows, Merlin stops in front of a large door marked A3.

"This doesn't look like a box, Merlin," Arthur mutters.

Merlin just smiles, swipes the card, dials a combination and turns the keys. "Thank you, Milord Obvious. Of course, that would be because all that's in here doesn't fit in a box."

"Merlin?"

She opens the door.

Arthur gapes. She turns her gaze to Merlin. "This... is..." Moves further into the room and spins in a slow circle. "That... That's... _Mer_lin, is that my _armour_? My honest to goodness _armour_?" Arthur rushes forwards, running a hand over the cool metal glinting in the display light. "It looks... My God, it looks like I wore it yesterday..."

Merlin shifts, leaning against the door frame, watching the play of emotions across her face as she coos over the portrait of their family in France, hundreds of other painted portraits, polaroids, photos, Digital Image Captures, and holos.

"Merlin..." Arthur's voice breaks, lifting a small puzzle-piece link bracelet. "How..." She trails off, picking up Merlin's staff from their first life. "And... our wedding bands?"

"You gave me many, Arthur, but those are our first." She clasped hands in front of her, watching Arthur move amongst the mementoes of their past lives.

"Ha... your specs... The—gods, Merlin, really? The arrows that killed us? That's morbid."

She grins. "History."

It goes on. The books they've written. Dog tags. Newspaper clippings, jewellery (all of the wedding bands that Merlin could collect that they'd gifted one another), photo albums, wedding announcements, obituaries, clothing, Arthur's cane, VHS tapes, CDs, DVDs, DICs, Vcs, a quilt, memory boxes, Merlin's spellbook, scrapbooks full of concert tickets, plane tickets, cinema tickets, amusement park tickets, theatre tickets, their first wedding dresses—both Arthur's and Merlin's, dried corsages and butineers, letters, Arthur's paintings and Merlin's novels, pet collars, journals, recipes, poetry, hospital bracelets, 3 versions of Merlin's tonsils, Arthur's appendix, ancient computers, Arthur's crown, flash drives, coats of arms, party invitations, a piñata, a tea set, heirloom china, tapestries, travel mementoes, the horrid statue a foreign dignitary had gifted to Arthur one life that the two of them had giggled over horribly, the tooth Arthur accidentally kicked out of Merlin's mouth, a leather jacket of Merlin's that made Arthur flush from memories, graduation tassels and hundreds of degrees all filed in cabinets for "Arthur" and "Merlin" listed from earliest to latest, horse bridles, garters, anniversary gifts, a whole corner full of instruments including a lute Arthur had used to woo Merlin, Arthur's guitars, Merlin's flute and piano, a bicycle and a penny-farthing, shoes, an old victrola, a stack of first-run Beatles albums with figurine bobble-heads to match, and, at the very back of the vault, Arthur's bed, Excalibur lovingly racked beside it.

"Oh Merlin..." Arthur gives her a lop-sided smile as she tries not to cry, voice thick. "You terrible pack rat!"

Merlin laughs quietly, moving forward past Arthur to sit on Arthur's bed. "I kept it all for us."

"I _know_, you idiot! Gods, Merlin. Only you. You and your magic. This shouldn't even be—your brilliant magic..." Arthur smiles, the same tender smile in all the photos where his eyes are fixed on Merlin. "I love you, you know."

Merlin nods. "I know. I love you too. Always. It was never about moving."

"I know. I don't need the promotion though. We're comfortable." She looks up at her bed, fingers trailing through the fabric of the drape before settling on Excalibur's hilt, breath easing out like she had found home. "We never argue about what we really mean..."

"I know."

"I... I feel lost."

"I know."

"We've done this so many times. So many places. So many..." Arthur lifts Excalibur. "I keep thinking: this will be the one." She falls silent again. "But every time... it's just an exercise in waiting. Like holding your breath. You know? You're just waiting for air." Meeting Merlin's eyes almost shyly, she returns Excalibur to its places. "I feel like we're always just waiting for air. Even when we say it's just for us. We can enjoy this one life. Hide away in our country homes. But we're always holding our breath, Merlin."

"I know."

The lop-sided smile returns. "Stuck on that, are you? All-knowing bastard."

Merlin grabs Arthur's hand and pulls her forward, off-balance enough to fall onto the bed beside her. "I know. And Arthur, this one? Let's have this _really_ be just for us. Yeah?"

"Definitely." Cupping her face, Arthur smiles. A brilliant of-old smile, wide and like the sun, making everything that could come their way fade into the background. A smile that shows Merlin the force of Arthur's love and wipes away the unease, worry, hesitations, and doubt. A smile for them. A smile for the rest of their lives.


End file.
